Dark Fascination
by PirateRosi
Summary: Auror Scarlet Bellamy tried to survive, as the fate of the wizarding world came ever closer to being decided. Little did she know, she would involuntarily soon be caught up in it, courtesy of her old friend Barty Crouch Junior. Post HBP/DH Compliant.
1. Prologue

Scarlet glanced around her with what she hoped was a disinterested look, although she couldn't disguise the slight furrow of concentration at her brow. Her keen eyes were scanning the room with for any signs of suspicious activity, having positioned herself as though leaning leisurely against the banister, so that she had a good view of those dancing and conversing below. She took a long draught of champagne. It was going to be a long night, alright. Thus far she hadn't seen anything of great significance, much to her concern. She was sure that something was going to happen tonight, she could feel it in her bones.

Ever since the disarray of last November, things had gone from bad to worse. Every day more and more fatalities were reported. This, coupled with the sudden loss of Albus Dumbledore only a few weeks previous, had left the wizarding world reeling.  
Although she had never known him personally, she remembered him from her school days, and his death greatly saddened her. It also heightened the feeling of impending doom that she felt, that they all did now, so imminent was the danger of Lord Voldemort and his loyal Death Eaters coming a-knocking at your door. Or rather, blasting it open.  
Scarlet took another sip of champagne. To think, in a time of crisis, the Ministry of Magic was holding a _Ball_, of all things.

A familiar feeling of uselessness washed over her once again, and her grip on the glass tightened. Scarlet could hardly blame Kingsley, as her boss, for the slightly brusque way in which he had spoken to her earlier that day, reminding her of her responsibilities as an Auror. Recently, she had been very distracted at work, and he wasn't the only one who had noticed. Nymphadora Tonks, who had long been a close friend of hers, seemed to be constantly worried about her, despite Scarlet's persistent reassurances that she was fine.  
It was just, things were always difficult at this time of year, though this was no real excuse, and Scarlet knew it.

In a life or death situation, she would be a liability and if things went pear-shaped for the Ministry tonight, she needed to be at her best. Remembering this Scarlet gave herself a mental kick, trying her best to dismiss her meandering thoughts, and focus once again completely on the job at hand. Which was to spy on the masses of people invited the to the Ball that night, and make sure no one got up to anything suspect.  
Even though the tone of the room was relaxed she could sense the tension, clearly the guests also had their suspicions, after all they weren't stupid.  
The room was filled with a number of the most respected wizards and witches of their time, but Scarlet thought most of those present were probably only there due to their influence, or standing. Of course it was supposedly only Ministry employees and their families who were invited, but there were many among the throng that Scarlet didn't recognise and she always remembered a face.

The place at which the ball was held, was just as impressive as the crowds of people that visited that night. The Ministry had made an obvious effort to make an impact, perhaps in the hope that it would lead people to believe they had everything under control. Although this fooled no one, it was undeniable that the country Manor in which the Ball was held, was certainly grand. It's majestic corridors and grounds were simply captivating. House elves ran under foot carrying  
trays of food and drink to and fro, almost unnoticed by the swaggering wizards and simpering witches above. Whilst a rag-tag band of musicians in the corner played a variation of light-hearted tunes, clearly their aim was to subconsciously lull you to a sense of ease.  
The main hall itself was a large, exquisitely fashioned room. An imposing set of double doors led out onto the lush gardens situated at the rear of the house, though no breeze crossed the threshold, probably owing to some enchantment that had been placed upon the doorway.  
A set of stairs led to an upper tier above, which served as a second floor, here Scarlet stood, her concentrated gaze unwavering. Until…

"Miss Bellamy, is that you?", a haughty female voice enquired from behind her.  
Scarlet froze and let out a rather theatrical sigh, then turned slowly, hoping the owner of the voice wasn't who she thought it was.  
"Narcissa" she answered curtly, with the briefest of polite smiles. Worse luck.  
A slim witch stood before her, elegantly poised and dressed to perfection. She fiddled carelessly with a diamond necklace which glittered at her throat, and she wore a sumptuous jade gown, obviously extremely expensive and most probably made of the finest silk. Scarlet gave an unwilling shudder; who knew how many hours of toil the house elves who made it must have undergone to create such a garment? She took a deep swig of champagne, although Scarlet felt she was going to need something stronger, this particular woman always made her nervous and rightly so.

"Ah, I barely recognised you, it's been such a long time. Tell me, how is your father? I don't believe he's here today…" Narcissa Malfoy asked pretentiously, as a sanctimonious smirk coursed crossed her pale face, and she swept away a strand of white blonde hair.  
Scarlet almost choked on her drink, she really should have been ready for that sort of remark. Whenever she had the misfortune to encounter Narcissa, she always tried to initiate this sort of verbal contest, but Scarlet never joined in with her mind games. Quite frankly, she didn't have the patience, or the pure strength of will to put up with Narcissa's jibes for longer than was necessary.

After Scarlet's spluttering had ceased, she attempted an answer, "He's… Well, he's quite well." She felt her cheeks flush, not only with embarrassment, Narcissa clearly knew this snide remark would upset her.  
Narcissa's expression remained smug, "Your mother's death must have been a terrible shock to him. You must offer my condolences." She paused, clearly taking pleasure at the young woman's uneasiness, "Although, it has been some time, when was it exactly?"  
"November, it was last November" Scarlet answered shortly. She could almost shaking with anger at the nerve of the woman, as her free hand balled into a tight fist.  
"I thought so", she answered, "Such a pity…"  
She regarded Scarlet coldly, clear disapproval of her and her family etched in every line of her face. Scarlet took a calming breath.

The disappearance of her son had obviously hurt Narcissa profoundly, though nothing of her appearance showed this, Scarlet noticed something in the subtleties of her manner. She seemed to be lacking in much of the usually, all too obvious Malfoy arrogance, and the easy confidence of her superiority over others. Although, Scarlet supposed, her worry would have been eased by the escape of her husband Lucius Malfoy from the Wizarding Prison Azkaban, along with other previously captured Death Eaters.  
Although Scarlet had her doubts as to whether Narcissa herself had joined her husband at Lord Voldemort's side, her jibe, in all it's irony, had struck home. It was people like her, those with similar beliefs and prejudices, that had killed her mother. Pure blood, or not.

"If you'll excuse me…", Scarlet murmured softly, almost to herself, as she brushed past Narcissa. To her relief, a familiar crop of shocking pink hair bobbed past at that very moment. She followed at a brisk pace, laying the glass aside on a low table as she did so. Alcohol never really appealed to Scarlet as she didn't really have mush of a taste for it, although she was obliged to a glass of wine every now and then. Scarlet caught hold of her friend's hand, "Tonks! Slow down!"  
Nymphadora Tonks turned, and positively beamed at her, "Wotcher Scarlet! Sorry about that, I've been looking everywhere for you, I even got Remus to help me!"  
Scarlet grinned back, and pulled her into a swift hug, it was nice to see a friendly face for once. All night she had been overlooked, or rather in Narcissa's case, scorned

"Honestly! Tonks, I can look after myself you know!", Scarlet frowned, feigning annoyance, which she failed at miserably. Raising her voice over the loud buzz of the crowds around them, and the lively tones of the band, she continued with a smile "You look fabulous by the way…"  
They were wearing attire very unusual for them both, and Scarlet knew that Tonks would rather be wearing a pair of scruffy jeans and a faded old t-shirt than an extravagant dress. Scarlet didn't mind so much, having had to get used to much of the same in her upbringing, her family being a very influential one before it's fall from grace. Although she had to admit she did feel uncomfortable, but their current setting demanded formality, so they would just have suffer in silence.

"-And so do you. In fact, you look even lovelier than usual, and if you aren't asked to dance, then I'll eat my hat." Tonks answered stubbornly  
"I have more important things to think about than dancing… As have you.", she poked her friend in the ribs.  
"Hmph, there's nothing wrong with having a good time! You don't seriously think You Know Who would do anything tonight do you?"  
Scarlet hesitated, choosing to ignore Tonks' first comment, "I don't know… I have this feeling. We need to keep our eyes open, and I told you I'm on my last warning. Besides…" she ended sulkily, "I hate dancing."  
Tonks raised a eyebrow, and suddenly looked distractedly over Scarlet's shoulder,  
"Oh, look there's Remus! And, he's talking with Kingsley! You're in luck!" she added winking.  
"Don't start with that. Anyway, since when did you become the all-might controller of my love life?"

"Since it became rather bland" Tonks grinned.

"Well, thanks a lot…" Scarlet replied, as she let herself be manoeuvred through towards them through the densely packed crowd.

-

Kingsley Shacklebolt took a leisurely draught of champagne, his eyes strayed across the room, before flickering back to the woman in front of him.  
Scarlet noticed his attention, but did her best to ignore it, pretending to be very involved in the conversation she was having with Tonks and Remus something to do with producing a Patronus, or so she thought.  
"What form does yours take Scarlet, if you don't mind me asking?" Remus Lupin smiled at her kindly, noticing her discomfort.  
Scarlet opened her mouth to answer, smiling back. She liked Remus a great deal, although not entirely sure how Tonks had met him (she always changed the subject whenever it was broached). Scarlet found him to be considerate person, and an undoubtedly loyal friend despite his ailment, which was of course, the fact he just so happened to be a werewolf. Unlike many other witches and wizards, this didn't bother Scarlet at all, and she was all too happy with her friend's choice in a boyfriend.

Kingsley's deep voice cut across hers, "A fox… Right?"  
Scarlet nodded in reply, trying not to be angered by the fact her cut across her. It had only lately become essential that Aurors could produce a patronus, since the Dementors had swapped sides.

"Although, saying that I almost didn't achieve in producing a corporeal patronus at all, in fact-", Scarlet stopped abruptly, when she noticed a white blonde head approaching.  
She cursed under her breath, "Narcissa Malfoy… Coming this way… I'll be right back!", Scarlet stuttered, and scurried off in the opposite direction.  
The others were left staring after her, dumbstruck.  
"What-?" Kingsley blinked, looking at Tonks nonplussed.  
"Narcissa Malfoy" Tonks answered, stifling a giggle as the very woman pushed past them. She glanced in their direction with an expression of deepest contempt, then was lost amidst the crowds.  
"-You know how it is, family connections and all that rot are important to their sort of family. I should know", Tonks continued, raising an eyebrow.  
"I don't blame her for wanting to get away." Remus chuckled.

Scarlet squeezed her way past a group of portly wizards, pulling off her cumbersome high heels, and descended the stairs. She reached the bottom, almost tripping over a small House Elf as she did so. The elf turned her big eyes to Scarlet's, apologising profusely, and trembling with fear.  
Scarlet paused. There was something familiar about that elf, alright…  
Before she could work out what, the little thing dashed off precariously balancing a tray of hors-d'oeuvres on her head. She watched the elf go with a bemused look, but didn't pursue her it was probably very likely she has seen the elf before if it was under the employ of the Ministry.  
Scarlet shrugged, before slipping through the double doors, and out into the grounds.

Despite the time of year, the air was surprisingly cold, and an ethereal mist swirled across the lawns, although this sort of weather had long since become the norm. Lights were dotted at intervals along the path, lighting the way, although there was not a soul to be seen. Scarlet supposed this was due to the eerie silence, and the night's chill, which cast a rather sinister shadow across the gardens.  
Scarlet breathed a sigh of relief, it was good to be away from the hustle and bustle indoors. She looked out across the stunning scenery, lit by a crescent moon which sent silvery shafts of light across the ground. Her shoes she held loosely in her hand, as she pondered the abruptness Narcissa's words. Merlin! That woman had some nerve…

A pattering of feet distracted Scarlet from her thoughts, and she turned to see a number of house elves lugging what looked to be a very heavy crate. She watched them as they made their way painstakingly slowly through the open doorway, and stood back out of their way, with half a mind to help them. She observed the "Handle With Care" notice stamped across it's side, and surmised the crate must be filled with the fireworks everyone was so anxious to see for the rather spectacular display to be scheduled for later, courtesy of Messrs Fred and George Weasley. Obviously, the crate contained quite an explosive contents. Scarlet was just mulling over just how safe it was for four tiny elves to be carrying such a heavy load, when she acknowledged the elf she had seen before as one of the small party. As she clapped eyes on Scarlet, the elf gasped, and let go of her corner of the crate. The other elves squealed, unable to support it by themselves as it crashed to the ground.  
The next thing Scarlet knew, the crate split open with an almighty bang and with a huge explosion of brilliant colours, she was knocked flying off her feet. She felt a sharp pain in her head as it connected with something solid as she fell to the ground.

-

A dark shadow crept through the brightly coloured fog, ignoring the bright blue sparks dancing around his feet, and bent low over the fallen witch. Totally immersed in the fog he was masked from sight as he would be so for another three minutes. If his calculations were correct.  
He brushed the light hair from the young woman's face, studying it intently. The moonlight caressed her pale face, giving her skin a haunting glow. Her eyes opened a fraction, as she gazed up at him hazily.  
"Barty…" she murmured, as recognition dawned on her.  
The witch stared at him, a number of emotions flashing clearly across her face, only to be met by the young man's intense gaze.

"Hello, Scarlet", Barty answered at length.

Scarlet's eyes closed as she lost consciousness. Barty blinked, evidently the blow to the head she had sustained was worse than he thought.  
He let out a soft sigh, hoisting her limp frame from the ground gently, bundling her over one shoulder. He surprised himself with his own strength although she wasn't heavy. At that Bartemius Crouch slipped away into the darkness, taking his unwilling acquaintance in tow.


	2. Disclosure

Scarlet awoke in a dimly lit room, sneezing as a strong smell of leather immediately overwhelmed her senses. She sat up slowly, painfully, finding herself on a decrepit old sofa, clearly the source of the strong scent. The once luxurious brown leather that covered it had since cracked and faded which made it totally inconspicuous in it's tarnished glory. It creaked worryingly beneath her as Scarlet quickly slid off it. The small bag she had taken with her to the Ministry's Ball had been laid beside her, and she reached for it quickly. Looking inside she rummaged frantically for her wand, which was most definitely not there. Looking around the room searchingly, she found she recognised it, in fact she knew it all too well…

What remained a mystery was why she had been taken there, and by who. Scarlet remembered little about to the night before, not the last part of it anyway. She strained her memory, only to recall a blaze of colour.

Treading softly across the old floorboards she ran a finger distastefully over the dusty top of the aging dresser. The glass held in the mirror atop it was cracked down the middle, distorting her reflection. A dazed young woman looked back from within, her untidy blonde hair falling into her face. Scarlet felt gingerly at the back of her head, wincing as she felt a deep cut. I had obviously come into contact with something. Hard. The resulting dizziness however meant she wouldn't be going anywhere fast. She glanced nervously towards the open doorway, the sight of the dark, deserted hallway beyond it sent chills up her spine. It was almost pitch black, the only light came from a candle flame which flickered feebly on a low table aside the sofa. The moth-eaten curtains were drawn, giving Scarlet no indication as to the time of day. She sighed, gazing around her at the disarray (the room was a lot more dishevelled then when she had seen it last), when something caught her eye. A curling photograph was stuck to the mirror's frame. Leaning forward she tugged it off and studied it. Her throat went dry.

A teenage version of herself was waving up at her happily, accompanied by a boy of the same age, who's arm was slung oh-so casually around her shoulders. Snow was falling softly around them, and Scarlet could see Hogwarts in the distance glistening benignly beneath a thick layer of frost. The picture had clearly been taken on the road to Hogsmeade, in their fifth year at school. She watched as the boy reached up to shake the snowflakes from his crop of light brown hair and noticing his shivering companion, wound his blue striped scarf around both their necks. They laughed, pulling their robes tighter about their shoulders to keep out the deviant winter's chill. Both their cloaks were adorned with the eagle crest of Ravenclaw and beneath the young Scarlet's was pinned a Prefect's badge. Her adolescent hopes and fears seemed so trivial in comparison to those she had now Scarlet thought, as reality rushed back to her. She quickly tore her gaze away, suddenly nostalgic. Her eyes stung with tears.

The floorboards creaked ominously behind her, reminding her of just where she was. Scarlet jerked around, her heart hammering painfully against her chest. She gasped, finding herself face-to-face with someone whom she had never expected to see again. The previous night's events came back to her with a jolt; the wide-eyed elf, the exploding fireworks…

Scarlet was completely stunned, her expression incredulous. She had no idea what to say, and neither it appeared, did he. Feeling as though she had been winded, it was all she could do not to faint. Blinking rapidly, Scarlet focused on the man before her. He had changed little since she had last seen him. Despite the small scar that ran along his jaw and the unkempt stubble, the boy from the photo was easily recognisable. This shocked Scarlet almost as much as his original appearance had, she had imagined him to be a monster, but when she looked at him, she could still see the childhood friend she had known so well.

He looked tired, and appeared almost too thin for a man of his stature. His attire was shabby, but Scarlet doubted he cared much about that. His eyes met hers, the feature that had changed the least, the eyes that always conveyed whatever emotion he was feeling with disturbing clarity. It occurred to her that she should be afraid, after all, he was a cold blooded killer. Not to mention an escaped convict, a supposedly soulless fugitive. But regardless of her reasoning, she didn't feel frightened, just a little bewildered.

"Oh, Barty. What have you done to yourself?" Scarlet murmured, sighing.

He looked slightly astonished at her words, almost as surprised as she was. Scarlet had not meant to speak out loud, the words seemed to blurt of their own accord. She dropped her gaze to the floor, as she felt his eyes boring holes right through her. There was a pause before he opened his mouth to speak, this however was interrupted by two loud cracks which resounded from the floor below.

Before she knew what was happening Scarlet found herself flung roughly into the darkest corner of the room, where she was wedged uncomfortably between the wall… And Barty, who it appeared, was shielding her from view. He pulled a wand out of his pocket, dousing the candle flame with a flick of the wrist. She would have asked him exactly what he was doing, if a voice hadn't spoken at that exact moment. Also, if her ability to speak wasn't inhibited by the shoulder her face was awkwardly pressed against.

"Nice digs", a voice echoed from the foyer below.

Scarlet realised, in their current position they were shrouded in darkness, which hid them from the eyes of anyone entering the room. Unless of course, a light was shone right at them.

"Rookwood" Barty murmured softly in her ear, informing her of the identity of the speaker. Another Death Eater, that was all she needed…

Although, this did beg the question, why was Barty hiding from his supposed allies?

"Indeed. Have a good look around Augustus, we don't want any unexpected surprises", a clipped voice said, answering the first.

"Dolohov" Barty whispered again. Scarlet could feel his heart beating rapidly against her chest, hear the anxiety in his words. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good. Scarlet held her breath as she heard the footsteps cross the floor, but they did not ascend the stairs.

"What do we do?" Scarlet breathed, as Barty move away a fraction.

He didn't answer, and they stood in silence listening intently. She became aware Barty still had a film hold of her arms, restraining her ability to move and keeping her securely pinned to the wall. There were barely centimetres between them, and it was bizarre to say the least after all the time that had passed since she had last seen him. The seconds seemed to stretch on like minutes, the minutes like hours. The quiet only punctuated by the noises made by the two Death Eaters prowling the floor below.

"What do they want?" Scarlet persisted, trying her best to ignore the strong urge she felt, which was to disapparate right there and then.

"Don't" Barty muttered, as if reading her mind, "They'll know someone was here."

He paused, taking a calming breath. There was a loud crash from below, and Scarlet shifted her focus from the peeling wallpaper up to Barty's face. His breathing she noticed seemed surprisingly quick and uneven. His wan face had turned white. His eyes were closed, and his expression was tense, as though he were fighting back some overpowering emotion. Scarlet wondered if he too was battling a desire to flee.

"I'm not sure why they're here", he added anxiously, "Perhaps they think the house could be of use, or… Or they're looking for me…"

Barty choked, the idea seemed unbearable.

"But everyone thinks you're dead…"

He opened his expressive eyes, fixing her with a look that told her quite plainly she was wrong, "Oh, really?"

"CROUCH!?" Rookwood's cold voice rang out through the house, confirming it was the latter. Barty flinched at his name.

"Looks like no one's home" he added a second later.

"We'll soon see about that…" Dolohov answered, smoothly.

Suddenly, there was a sound of heavy footfalls crossing the floor below. There was a pause as Scarlet held her breath, hoping they had found nothing of interest and would leave.

"Here", Rookwood called to his companion from somewhere below their feet, who had indeed found something of something of interest.

Barty swore violently, which was hard to do under one's breath.

"Shit, indeed…" Scarlet managed to answer.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the house again "Someone's been here. They can't have left that long ago…"

Scarlet bit down on her lip, it would be useless fighting back if they were found. They had only one wand between the two of them, and despite the fact Scarlet was a capable witch, she doubted she could take on the two Death Eaters and look after Barty at the same time, who looked in no fit state to be of any assistance; he was visibly shaking now. Not that she wasn't. Despite this Scarlet was unsure as to why she _should_ help him, he had kidnapped her after all. But they were in this together, or so it seemed. Her enemies were his enemies now, unless of course this was some elaborate trap. She doubted however, that Barty was that good of an actor.

"Should I contact the Dark Lord and inform him of Crouch's _disappearance_?", Rookwood asked the other man eagerly.

Scarlet looked at Barty apprehensively, and their eyes met. His had a faraway look to them, as though he was living through some unknown terror she couldn't possibly imagine. He looked absolutely terrified, sweat stood out on his brow, and the grip he had on her arms had become unexpectedly painful.

After what seemed like an eternity, the other Death Eater replied, "No Crouch can wait. And besides that, he may still be here…"

Suddenly, footsteps came crashing up the stairs, and her mind went into overdrive. Panicking, Scarlet did the only thing she could think of and pulling a hand free of his grip, took the wand from Barty's pocket. He didn't stop her, instead he shrank back to the wall. He still had a sure hold of her wrist.

The steps came closer as a Death Eater checked the nearby rooms for signs of life, the other obviously having gone to search another part of the house. The steps were outside the door now, as their owner slowly shuffled into the room.

Scarlet stepped quickly from the shadows, deciding what she should do in a heartbeat, "_Imperio…"_

The look of shock that had crossed Rookwood's features at her appearance, before going totally blank as he turned at her unspoken command, and immediately left the room. He met his ally out in the corridor, as Scarlet felt herself wrenched back to the wall. She reached for the hand that had dragged her back so unceremoniously, and gave it squeeze.

"I found no one, you?" Dolohov asked him sharply.

"No, I didn't see anyone…" Rookwood answered, a slightly monotonous tone to his voice. Scarlet prayed to anyone that might be listening that Dolohov wouldn't notice, although Rookwood's voice had been fairly monotonous to begin with.

"That's no fun…", Scarlet could almost see the leer on his face, though she had never met the man, and had only ever seen his picture in the Daily Prophet and pinned up in the Auror's Office.

"Nevermind, I'm sure the Dark Lord will reward our efforts…" Rookwood answered, in what sounded more like his usual voice.

"The Dark Lord does not reward failure, and he will not like that Crouch went missing, whatever his reasons… Especially after his efforts to save him from the kiss."

"So it's true then…?" Rookwood asked keenly.

"I've only ever heard stories, they always said he was the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter…" he said these words with disgust, and what almost sounded like envy.

"I only ever saw him the once, and that was months ago…"

"Me too", said the other, marvelling at his words, "I wonder how…"

"No idea" Dolohov answered, cutting across Rookwood as he tried to change the subject, "Anyway, this is the time nor the place to speak of it"

Rookwood either did not notice the contempt in the other man's voice, or ignored it. Whichever it was, he made no reply.

"To Malfoy Manor it is then…"

There was a pause, and two cracks announced their departure.


	3. Of Clothing and Loathing

.

Forgot to say this in the prologue.

DISCLAIMER - I do not claim to own any of the characters/setting/objects ect. created by J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for (she probably would not like how I chose to "borrow" them, but nevermind. xD).

Scarlet Bellamy however, is quite obviously my own creation.

As is her cat.

Dark Fascination 3 - Of Clothing and Loathing

The pair stood in the silence for a moment, staring out into the gloom vigilantly, waiting for the Death Eaters to return. They didn't.

Scarlet gave a huge sigh of relief as she peeled herself from the wall, and reluctantly let go of the hand she realised she was still clinging to as though it were going to disappear, which in all honesty, it could. She didn't even look at Barty as she did this, but instead willed him not to disapparate and leave her alone in this cold, unfriendly house. Taking a few shaking steps forward, she went to retrieve her bag. Why she chose to do this, she had no idea, but after such an ordeal it seemed the only sensible thing to do. Slipping the wand inside with her gazed still fixed on the hallway, she hooked it around her shoulder. With a soft sigh Scarlet acknowledged that she was stilling wearing the dress from the night before, which being a fragile, flimsy sort of thing, now had several rips and tears in it. Inwardly she groaned, it had been expensive and she wasn't good at repairing spells, usually only making it worse.

As an after thought she bent down and picked up the photograph she had been studying earlier, (it had been hastily dropped after the arrival of the Death Eaters), and stashed that away in her bag too. Scarlet told herself this wasn't because she was sentimental, it would just be foolish to leave behind evidence of their being there. She had been avoiding meeting Barty's eyes for some time she realised, Dolohov's words were still ringing in her ears.

_They always said he was the Dark Lord__'__s most faithful supporter__…_

Shaking her head to try and rid it of such thoughts, Scarlet turned back to Barty. He hadn't moved since their undesirable visitors had left, in fact he looked as if he _couldn't _which wasn't very reassuring. They had to get out of there, clearly the house wasn't safe, and there was really only one obvious place that occurred to Scarlet. Her own home. Hopefully no one would connect the two, after all, she hadn't seen Barty in years. Still, it didn't occur to her to just leave him, but she wasn't that sort of person.

Unlike Scarlet, Barty hadn't been calmed by the Death Eater's departure, in fact, he looked just as petrified as he had before they had left.

"Barty?"

She crossed the floor, and shook him by the shoulders lightly.

"Barty, stop it."

His expression was glazed, his brown eyes wide with fear and Scarlet soon realised she was wasting her energy trying to reconcile him, when he collapsed against her.

"Oh, great. _Really_ scary you are."

It appeared he didn't hear her, which wasn't really surprising considering as it appears her had lost consciousness. Struggling to support the surprisingly heavy Barty, and with another sigh, she turned on the spot and disapparated, taking the half-conscious Crouch with her.

-

It was Barty's turn to wake up on a couch, although it was more welcoming surroundings that found himself in. Sitting up, he identified the room as small, cosy, and so obviously said "Scarlet" she may as well have written her name all over the walls in multi-coloured ink. A fire crackled merrily in the grate, and a cat mewled from somewhere near his feet. He gave a start as it did so, only to have it fix it's large amber eyes on him reproachfully. Barty suppressed the urge to pull a face at it, after all, it was only a cat. He glanced around once again, taking in the rather cheery style of décor. The small window nearby revealed a small, but exceptionally pretty garden. He didn't remember Scarlet ever having a talent for gardening, but she had obviously taken up a lot of other hobbies since he had known her. Paintings and photos lined the walls, and a large threadbare rug covered the knotted wooden planks that made up the floor. It was all very rural, very old and very… Countrified. Then again, it was a cottage, so perhaps she was excused for that. The cat kneaded at his feet, as if chastising him for his unspoken criticism of it's mistress.

"Hey!" he glowered at the cat, moving his feet quickly from within it's reach. In answer to this, it clambered onto his lap purring. Or not.

"Fickle aren't you?" Barty frowned, he wasn't used to this much attention, not even from animals. He looked away stubbornly, pretending he hadn't noticed.

"Exceedingly."

Barty looked up to see Scarlet leaning against the doorframe, watching them.

"He loathes most people" she continued absent-mindedly.

"How long have you been there?" he asked, grudgingly, interrupting her train of thought.

"Long enough to know you didn't fling him across the room, which is a good sign." she answered smartly, and flopped down into the armchair nearby. Scarlet had changed since her return home, discarding her dress in favour of a comfortable looking jumper and a faded pair of jeans. Still, she remained as attractive as ever. The cat jumped off his knee immediately as she sat down, curling up on hers instead.

"A good sign?" Barty looked at her questioningly.

"You're not all bad.", she answered matter-of-factly.

"Look-"

"We have a lot to talk about, don't we?" Scarlet answered for him, her expression suddenly serious.

"Yes. Yes we do." Barty was going to deny it, she deserved to know. As much as it pained him he had to tell her everything, it was the only way she could help.

"How are you feeling?" Scarlet interjected. With a jolt he noticed she looked slightly anxious.

"Fine." he answered quickly.

"What made you…?" she scratched the cats ears subconsciously, not wanting to finish her question for fear of angering him. She was speaking to him carefully, as though he might explode at any moment, and he didn't like it.

"Faint like that?" Barty sighed, "I… I sort of have... Well, it was a panic attack."

Scarlet arched an eyebrow, "Has it ever happened before?"

He nodded, lowering his gaze, ashamed at his reaction, but Scarlet didn't ask him any more questions on the subject. There was a pause, as if she was deliberating something. Slowly he looked up at her again, several emotions flitted across her strained face, as though they were fighting for prominence. Anger, fear, pity all merged into one as she slowly closed her eyes, trying to keep her cool.

Scarlet wasn't the only one with a million and one thoughts running through her head, along with lesser concerns such as "I need a shower", there was one thing that was really niggling at him.

"Why didn't you hand me over to the Aurors? Or… Err… Take me in yourself?"

Scarlet leaned forward to rest her chin on her hands, "Did you want me to?"

"No", Barty answered, confused.

"No" she repeated, with what looked like a trace of a smile on her pale face.

"I don't understand-"

"When was the last time you washed, or changed for that matter?" she enquired, this time he was sure she was longing to laugh.

"Umm…"

"Exactly. I think I have some clothes, but I doubt they're your style…" Scarlet stood up, beckoning for him to follow her. Barty blinked and followed obediently, he didn't really have a style. Crossing the room, she paused at the foot of the stairs and looked back at him thoughtfully.

"I'd really like to think since I sort of saved your life back there you wouldn't try anything… But just so you know, I have a wand on me and you're unarmed"

"Scarlet…" he began, but she cut across him again.

"We'll talk later, first you sort yourself out." she sighed, "You're a wreck Barty, and I wouldn't feel right grilling a man who looked like he was about to drop dead at any moment."

She lay her hand on his shoulder for a moment, before continuing up the stairs. Barty followed still slightly bewildered, "I don't look _that_ bad…"

"Maybe not by Azkaban's standards…" Scarlet teased, turning her head so he wouldn't see the grin that crossed her face.

-

"I am NOT wearing that" Barty muttered sulkily, folding his arms determinedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was under the impression Death Eaters _liked_ cuddly"

"No", Barty shook his head obstinately, "It's _purple_"

"Says the man in the dressing gown… Look, c'mon, it's all I've got that'll fit you.", Scarlet said, looking at him imploringly, "And what's wrong with purple?"

"Nothing… It's, it's _muggle_."

She rolled her eyes to the sky, "You and your prejudices. Look just put it on, I'm not having you walking around naked."

_Although, that wouldn't be such a bad idea… _

The thought suddenly sprung unbidden into her mind.

_Stop it! He's a murderer, hello? He killed people! _

Scarlet looked at him sceptically, clad in the stripy dressing gown she had found out for him, he didn't look like a murderer. She had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from laughing at his sullen expression, and the rebellious, recently-washed hair that stood up about his head in odd places.

"The jeans I can cope with… It's just the shirt, and what's wrong with my old clothes?"

"I can't believe you just asked me that question. They're in tatters…"

"Well…"

He groaned after coming up with no convincing argument as to why they should be kept, and glared at her across the room.

"Just put them on." Scarlet said firmly, picking them up off the floor and handing them to him. Taking them reluctantly, Barty made his way back to the bathroom he had just vacated, after having taken a rather long bath on Scarlet's orders. She proceeded to tidy up the room, which was in disarray after the many rebuffed items of clothing lay thrown on the floor distastefully. Merlin, Barty could be a drama queen.

He frowned at her from the doorway, "Who do these belong to anyway?"

She looked up briefly from her tidying, "Oh, no one."

Furious with herself for her embarrassment, Scarlet went back to was she was doing, conscious that his gaze still lingered on her face, which had gone a rather spectacular shade of crimson. Thankfully Barty didn't push the issue, instead padding off down the hallway. Perhaps he was paying her back for the courtesy she had paid him, after all, she could have done a lot worse than make him wear what could he conceived to be "muggle clothing". Maybe he just didn't care.

Scarlet heard the bathroom door click shut. Relieved, she threw the last (rather ostentatious) shirt back into the wardrobe. She really did not want to have to explain why there were so many items of male attire in her home. One of her reasons was very innocent, the other, was still quite painful. Climbing to her feet she left the room (which was of course, the guest room), descended the stairs and sought about making some food. She was hungry, and Scarlet felt she would need a full stomach for the long, wearying conversation that she expected was to come shortly after.


	4. The Perfect Death Eater

Barty stared into the mirror before him intensely as conflicting emotions passed in quick concession across his careworn face. It was much harder now to convince himself that his reflection was that of a Death Eater, a shave had pretty much eradicated any sign of menace from his appearance. However, underneath it all he knew a troubled mind stirred. Sinister ideals and black beliefs were imprinted on him, perhaps forever. He realised he still half believed them. It appeared his demons were not giving up without a fight. In fact, even now he could feel innumerable despicable thoughts clamouring for his attention, and clawing at his newer desires to pacify them.

He was incredibly conscious that the clothes Scarlet had supplied from Merlin knows where didn't really fit him that well, clearly their previous owner had been very well built, and far more muscular than himself. Barty frowned, somehow disconcerted by the thought. Heaving a sigh he left the room, ghosting Scarlet's steps as he descended the stairs. His entrance to the kitchen was met by the smell of food, and he suddenly realised he was starving. Scarlet flinched as he entered, but said nothing, intent on what she was doing, his abrupt materialization in her kitchen had surprised her. Barty glanced at the clock on the wall which informed him that the time was eight twenty five. It also told him in a shrill, pompous voice that he was the untidiest being it had ever beheld. He jumped, staring at the clock's face incensed. He had never known a piece of furniture to be so rude.

"Filthy Convict…" it muttered darkly from the bizarre mouth carved clumsily upon the clock face. Scarlet suddenly dropped the plate she was holding, and it smashed loudly upon the cold stone floor. Wincing, she muttered a spell and the plate was repaired. Barty quickly bent down, and picking it up he handed it to her. She thanked him, and turned back to what she was doing. Puzzled, Barty frowned.

"Doesn't that get annoying? The clock I mean." he ventured, disconcerted by her silence.

"You have no idea…" she answered shortly before turning abruptly to face him, "But it's useful."

He nodded, unsure what to say.

"It manages to offend any guests I have, which can be amusing.", the ghost of a smile lingered at her lips

"Well, I can see why" he answered, noticing she was looking curiously at his arm. Barty didn't have to ask to know exactly what she was staring at.

The Dark Mark writhed across the underside of his forearm, black against his pale skin, too noticeable to ignore. He glanced down at the hated thing, the symbol of all his previous ill deeds, his diabolical and murderous nature. Something he hoped never to have to come in contact with ever again.

"Sorry" Scarlet murmured, looking uncomfortable.

He shook his head, "No, it's alright."

Before Barty knew what he was doing, he had extended his arm towards her, Scarlet's gaze didn't waver, her eyes intent upon the Mark. She leant forward, touching his arm gingerly with a wary finger, "Does it hurt?"

"It twinges when He calls, but it hurts a lot if you resist… I should imagine."

"And you never have?" she asked him quietly.

"Resisted? No, He hasn't called on me for a long time."

"Then how do you know how much it hurts?", she enquired.

"I don't. I'm guessing, but I suppose we'll see."

Still in awe of it, Scarlet he realised was still holding onto his arm tightly. Tearing her eyes away from the mark, she glanced up at him worriedly and looked as though she wanted to say something. She quickly let go, "I suppose we will."

She turned away, busying herself with what she was doing. Moments later she held out a plate to Barty who was instantly distracted as his fingers brushed against hers as he accepted the plate.

They both retreated to the warmth of the living room, Scarlet sat once again in the armchair, and he returned to the couch. Barty ate hungrily, conscious of the fact Scarlet merely picked at her pasta, disinterested, which was surprising as it really was good. He voiced this opinion, and she only shrugged, smiling briefly.

"This place is secure isn't it?" he asked quickly, suddenly worried by the thought.

"Of course. On arrival I immediately put up all the protective wards.", Scarlet paused, then frowned "It's not likely anyone will come here anyway. There are few who know where I live."

"You've become quite the hermit I noticed. Speaking of… Did you get in touch with anyone who was at the ball? They probably noticed your sudden disappearance.", it was the first time he had mentioned the previous evening's events.

"Well I said I felt ill so I left early. That's how I got the day off today. They won't miss me, Kingsley's been trying to get me to take some time off for ages.", she stabbed at her food, almost sulkily.

"Why?"

"Because I'm better at the paperwork in all honesty."

"What?" he asked, bemused.

She sat forward, laying her plate aside and looking at him pensively, "I don't know. I think… I feel like I've lost something. I mean I used to be good at what I did. But now…" Scarlet shook her head.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better I always thought you'd make a great Auror" Barty answered, genuinely surprised.

"Shocking isn't it?" she laughed unconvincingly, and shifted in her seat "… But y'know since my mother died, I just can't make it work." She shrugged airily, not meeting his eyes.

Barty lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes, "I heard about that. I'm sorry."

"You don't know anything about it do you?" he could hear the suppressed desperation in her voice. Shaking his head, he became numbly aware it was his sort of people who carried out the deed, as most probably was she.

"Although, I always thought you'd make a brilliant healer. You were always good at that sort of thing, treating injuries I mean." he deftly change the subject, "Well, patching me up, really."

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Maybe you're right… Though I think if that's truth my talent at healing should be attributed to you." Scarlet teased.

"I wouldn't dare take credit for that.", said Barty grinning unpredictably.

There was a pause as it became apparent that neither of them were very hungry anymore, as they were reminded of the unavoidable conversation that was imminent. Barty cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly, "Scarlet, there are some things I can't tell you, and there are things that I won't. Despite what you may think, that's because there are things that shouldn't be talked about, but I will tell you everything you should know."

She nodded, quite taken aback by his sudden frankness, "After it was reported I was given the Dementor's kiss, I continued working for Voldemort. I can't tell you what I was doing, because I stupidly consented to taking an Unbreakable Vow. I can say however that I was supposed to retrieve something for him, something that would make him even more powerful, because of course that's all he craves. And, yes I still have my soul, it seems if it wasn't for this task I wouldn't. I was still of some value to Lord Voldemort, though I'm not under any illusion it was for any other reason, my life wouldn't have been of any significance to him. However at the time I believed my Master was being merciful." he spat the last word with such vehemence the cat jumped, hissing from it's place at the hearth and stalked off, tail in the air.

Barty did not look up, aware that recounting his tale was almost therapeutic.

"However in the past year I've ascertained some form of clarity, thanks to which I am no longer under the impression that the efforts of the Death Eaters are anything other than glorified murder. I can't take credit for this, as it wasn't really anything to do with me. It's due to the perseverance of someone else, how they were able to bestow such kindness on someone like me I'll never know. Or how they had the patience to keep trying despite the fact I was almost a hopeless case. But I haven't really explained what happened before that, what happened at Hogwarts. That is, if you want to hear it…" Barty stopped and looked up at Scarlet, who he was relieved to see wasn't looking at him with disgust as he had imagined, but looked rather pensive. She nodded, and left her chair to sit beside him on the couch. He found her presence made it a lot less of an effort to speak.

"You know, when my parents devised their plan to free me from Azkaban, I was quite mad. Well, that's a gross understatement, I was pretty fucking insane." his eyes were fixed on his own interlaced fingers. He retraced his grievous mistakes and secrets impassively, as if he were reading from a textbook.

"No bones about it, I'll admit I never felt any remorse for what I did. And there aren't enough excuses in the world to justify that, either. I think Azkaban changed me, before then I was just being stupid, it was just a rebellious teenage thing. I thought what I was doing, was cool, I thought you'd think it was cool too." He glanced up at her in earnest, "You knew me better than anyone, I wasn't a killer. I was just blinded by the thought of having power, I didn't consider what I was getting myself into. I suppose, now I think about it I just… I wanted to hurt my father. ", his voice trailed off weakly at the mention of Barty Crouch Senior. He remembered so vividly his own thirst to prove himself to his father, to make him take notice of his son. Eventually he had found the only way to do this was to cause trouble. Barty had hated him for it.

"I know." Scarlet answered reassuringly, she knew as well as he did the kind of relationship he had had with his father, or the lack of one.

"And you know what happened next. I joined the Death Eaters."

"Despite my best efforts to change your mind." Scarlet interjected suddenly, looking pained. Barty met her gaze ruefully, his memories of that time weren't good ones. He had treated her despicably, when he had needed her the most. She had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, but ultimately the only way he had been able to cope with his father's negligence had been to swear his allegiance to the Dark Lord. Not his smartest move.

"I should have listened." he answered, honestly.

"Anyway, where was I…? Oh yeah, after I escaped life with my father under the Imperius Curse I sought my Master and was rewarded. By this time I was completely different, because lets face it, before I was just a scared kid." The memory of his own terrified screams at the realisation he was going to Azkaban echoed through his mind, "And as for the Longbottoms, I didn't do anything, I didn't even get the chance. The Lestranges… But you know about that."

Barty quickly continued, incapable of lingering any longer on the subject, drenched in guilt as he was, if he didn't his resolve would crack and he wouldn't be able to carry on speaking. He knew Scarlet must have heard this story before and that she had even lived through it herself, but she hadn't seen it from his perspective, and it was so important to him that she knew how he felt about it, even if he didn't know why.

"I had no sense of morals, I really didn't care. All I wanted was revenge, and of course to please my Master." The last word of this sentence was dredged in distain.

"It's hard to explain, I wasn't myself. Have you ever felt like you aren't in control? It was like there was a tiny part of me that saw what I was doing with total clarity, and it hated what I had become, but I just ignored it and gave in. It was so much easier." Barty dropped his head into his hands, "I was my own greatest enemy, and I suppose I always have been."

He sighed, "I suppose you know all about what went on after that at Hogwarts?"

"Yes" Scarlet replied softly, "You said Voldemort intervened…"

"Well, he didn't have anything to with it personally, obviously. You are aware I presume, that Lucius Malfoy was once well in with Cornelius Fudge when he was Minister for Magic? Never underestimate the Malfoys, they a _very _persuasive family. It isn't widely known but Lucius was and is incredibly gifted at utilizing the Imperius Curse, and Fudge, well, he was never known for being strong-willed."

"He was under the Imperius curse?" Scarlet paled.

"Well, unless the Minister was extremely crooked by this point I'm assuming he was. You know what Fudge was like, he was gutless, he daren't put a toe out of line.", Barty allowed himself to glance up at her, and they shared a look of wonder.

"Anyway, as it was, Lucius was with Fudge when he came with the Dementors to Hogwarts."

"No… That's impossible. Someone would've noticed. Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore was interrogating me when me they arrived, he never saw Fudge until after we escaped. All of the other teachers were preoccupied, what with the death of Cedric Diggory and the whole impostor situation, apart from Professor McGonagall…", Barty felt another tug of guilt at the first name, he was partially to blame for the boy's murder, but then he was to blame for a lot of things.

"She was the one who was supposed to have seen it happen, it said so in the Prophet, but that's impossible. Malfoy couldn't have tricked her, she's incredibly powerful." Scarlet answered, bewildered.

"Not when caught off guard by the Imperius curse… As I said, he was always particularly good at that it. I remember, I could feel the Dementors coming closer, you know how they sort of radiate despair." Scarlet shuddered, no witch or wizard needed the effect Dementors had explaining.

"I could feel it before they even entered the room, and when they did, I really thought that was it."

"And then Malfoy put McGonagall under the curse…?"

"Yes. The Minister for Magic didn't object of course, he was under the influence of the curse himself. He cast another spell on her too, I think it was some kind of memory charm, I didn't recognise it. She went running off to tell Dumbledore that the Dementor's kiss had been performed on me. To this day she still believes that's what happened that night." Barty shivered, the memory of it still lucid in his mind.

"The Dementors weren't at all happy about it, but Lucius ensured them that they would have their fair share of souls soon enough. They knew not to disobey, but they were furious."

"They're not like us… They wouldn't understand." Scarlet murmured, her face seemed to have drained of all colour, "How did you get out unnoticed?"

"Lucius stole Moody's invisibility cloak, it was hard for two men to fit underneath when it was only designed for one, but we managed to slip away unnoticed."

"No one noticed it was missing?"

"Snape was instructed to return the cloak to Moody's office so nobody would notice it was missing."

Scarlet scowled at the name, "And no one saw you leave either?"

"There were a few moments where I thought we'd been spotted, and I'm sure Mrs Norris saw us. I think cats can see through those things… Anyway, we managed to get out of the castle without too much trouble, although it wasn't a pleasurable experience believe me. I've never liked that man. We then apparated to a graveyard, where Voldemort was awaiting my return."

Lifting his head the noticed Scarlet's eyes flicker involuntarily to the mark on his arm.

"I think Voldemort also wanted to test Lucius' loyalty, If it had gone wrong, it would have gone very wrong for him. All I know is it wasn't an act of compassion on either side. And I'll be honest, a normal person wouldn't have saved me either. I was crazy. Homicidal. Although of course, the perfect Death Eater should boast those traits."

"Is that what you think you are? The perfect Death Eater?" she asked, calmly.

"Perhaps. At least, I was."

"Well, what changed? Why the reform in character?"

"As I said, I got help. Or rather it was forced on me."

"I suppose you can't tell me about that either?" Scarlet asked, looking indignant.

"That I can say. It was Dumbledore, somehow he found me."

"What!? How? How did he even know you were alive?"

Barty shrugged, "I have no idea, and I don't suppose I ever will."

Scarlet stared, wide-eyed, "So what happened?"

"I had been away for around eight months, and still I hadn't achieved my goal. Voldemort called for me, he was very angry. He punished me severely for my failure, but still I didn't doubt my objective." Barty touched the scar that ran across his palm subconsciously, an injury he had sustained that evening. Another mark of the Dark Lord's former hold on him.

Barty sighed heavily before carrying on, "I returned to the house to recuperate, my father's house that is. Dumbledore was already there waiting for me, it was uncanny how he knew I'd be there. That was almost a year ago. He offered help and at the time I was in no state to resist, however much I hated the man. He healed my wounds, and promised to return, casting a spell which bound me to the house so I could not leave, even if I had the strength."

"And he returned?" she enquired, in awe.

"Of course. It was Dumbledore. He sent my old house elf Winky back to care for me first, and I was informed via owl that I was not to treat her as a slave. I have to say I was glad of the company, though I daresay not as much as her, she was overjoyed to see me."

Scarlet smiled, "That elf really is dedicated isn't she?"

"Very. She was very kind to me, and in turn I didn't curse her into oblivion.", he grinned slyly, "Although I _was_ severely reprimanded for my behaviour. But you know Winky, she couldn't quite comprehend the full extent of what I had done. Anyway, the moment I regained my health Dumbledore came to see me once again. He had confiscated my wand and he told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever wished to see it again I was to comply with what he said. And, so I had no choice, although I can't say I didn't try to resist at first. Which reminds me, you have it now don't you?"

"Yes, but continue with the story."

"What? Can't I have my wand?"

"For all I know you're lying, you can have it back when I deem it wise." she replied, coolly. There was no arguing with her.

"What happened then?" she persisted.

"Well, I don't know. I suppose he just talked to me, a lot. About things that I'd done. I suppose in the beginning it was like talking to a brick wall, I wouldn't reply or even acknowledge his presence. He persevered, although what good he saw in me I don't know. The idea that someone was taking the time to do so didn't escape me however, it's nice to know someone believes in you. But it wasn't just that, he told me what had happened to my family after I was imprisoned. I can't say it wasn't painful, but it was the truth, and I suppose that was what I needed. My father did care, he just never showed it, that much Dumbledore explained to me." Barty choked, suddenly feeling very cold.

"Anyway, needless to say it worked. I still don't know why he chose to do it, and it's hard to explain how he managed to change my mind so drastically. In truth I don't remember much of it. And, he never explained. He never had the opportunity."

"I suppose he thought one less Death Eater in the world was a good thing." Scarlet said quietly, "He's a smart man. Perhaps he saw the potential in you."

Barty smiled slightly, "I didn't deserve it, but you know, that's Dumbledore." he ended, reverently.

"And all this brought you to me?" she asked.

"Yes and no. Not long before he died, Dumbledore told me that I should find a close friend or family member. Since they are very thin on the ground, the only one I could think of was you. I'm not sure why he told me to do this, but it was always rumoured that he was slightly batty. "

Scarlet gaped at him, "Seriously? That's why you kidnapped me? I'm not sure he would have approved of such methods."

"Well, to be honest there's not really an easier way of getting hold of you.

Half of the time you're surrounded by Aurors, and as you said, no one knows where you live. I knew you were attending the Ball, so I just made sure Winky was there to make a distraction and the rest was rather simple. ."

"And that's it?" Scarlet asked, doubtfully.

"That's it." Barty said, simply.


	5. Awkward Truths

Scarlet looked at Barty pensively as a sudden thought struck her, "But what about your father?"

He stared at her for a moment astonished, before standing and quickly crossing the room. His back was turned to her, "What about him?"

Scarlet ran a hand through her dishevelled hair distractedly, "I know what happened."

Barty wheeled around, the first trace of his anger flashed across his face, "Do you really?!"

She stood, her eyes now level with his. He no longer towered over her, and it made him seem a lot less intimidating somehow, "I read-"

"- It in the Daily Prophet. I know. Who didn't?"

"You-"

"I killed him, yes." he cut across her again, dropping his hard gaze.

"How can you be so cold? Don't you care?! How can you just stand there and be so blasé about it?" Scarlet's voice became very shrill.

Barty stepped forward suddenly, reaching out and grabbing her wrists. He gave her a look of such powerful intensity it was almost painful to meet his gaze, but she felt she could not look away. She had never seen him so angry, but whether this was directed at her or not she couldn't comprehend. For a moment she could see a trace of the Death Eater in him, before he changed his expression to one of remorse. Perhaps he had caught the look in her eye, the unexpected, uncontrollable fear that briefly lingered over her features. Whatever it was, it had made him quickly mask his rage, and Scarlet was glad of it. He hadn't meant to upset her, she was sure.

"Don't ever say that.", regret was etched into every feature of his face, and she too felt a tug of guilt at bringing up something which caused such fierce emotions. She tried to pull her arms from his grasp but he didn't let go, though his grip loosened, "Scarlet. Listen to me. It's not something that's easy for me to deal with, but it's also not something that's going to go away either."

"Barty, listen…"

"No, you listen. You have no idea what happened, none at all!" his voice took an

authoritative tone rather than irritated, and Scarlet found herself taken back to History of Magic and being berated by Professor Binns for "accidentally" turning Barty's quill into a into a rather charming, yet slightly dishevelled cockatoo. Her whoop of joy at the success of the transfiguration however, was what had really annoyed him. If it weren't for this, Scarlet doubted he would have noticed the interruption to his lesson. It proved worth it however, her mastery of the spell had overcome their boredom, and she was praised highly by Professor McGonogall the next day, as she was the only one who had managed to turn it into anything nearing a bird. The singed wing Barty produced was received with a look of disdain, and a loud sniff. Scarlet didn't reveal however, that her newly found talent at the subject was due to boredom control in Binn's lesson, which had led her to practice.

But Scarlet was no longer a child, nor a pupil, and those were times long gone. Barty wasn't the boss of her either. Scarlet glared at him, "It hasn't exactly been easy for me either!"

He didn't reply, choosing instead to stare at her blankly in an irritating fashion.

"Do you think I've just been sat back relaxing in your absence? Do you have any idea what I've been through?!"

"No, actually. Care to tell me?", he wasn't being sarcastic. To her surprise, he looked like he genuinely wished to know.

Scarlet remained silent, letting her arms go limp, regarding him with a wary eye. She had to admit, his obvious sincerity was curiously endearing. This sense of openness Barty had never had with her before, she realised, but perhaps it was his anger that had loosened his tongue. Scarlet however was overwhelmed by the information that had been so unceremoniously dumped upon her. It wasn't as if she didn't have enough to worry about as it was. However, despite her annoyance and disappointment she couldn't deny the sympathy she felt for him, nor the rush of affection she felt every time he looked at her with that solemn gaze.

Scarlet shook her head finally, "It doesn't matter."

"It obviously does." Barty breathed, he still very disturbed by the abrupt change of subject, but Scarlet couldn't let it go, but decided now was not the time for discussion of his father. She supposed she should feel privileged she had got this much information out of him, although she knew this was as much for her benefit as his. But she didn't feel privileged, she felt empty and dazed, as though she did not understand anything he'd said with any clarity.

Barty looked at her tensely, before his eyes softened. The grip on her wrists could not be described as gentle, but it had slackened and no longer pained her as it had before. "I never imagined how it's been for you."

"I… You were my best friend, and then all of a sudden you were gone." Scarlet sighed, hesitant to reveal her real feelings lest it make the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was. The unspoken sentiment behind her words however was somewhat unintentionally conveyed, the depth of her feelings on the matter however, only she could truly recognise. Despite this, Barty seemed to understand. His sudden extrication from her life had grieved her, it was true, and even Scarlet could not ignore the feeling of elation she had felt when she found out he was alive and well, despite all the complications it brought with it. He lifted his hand to her face, brushing away a tear that had strayed, unbidden, down her cheek.

Scarlet quickly wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. Reluctantly, Barty made to lower his hand, before she impulsively caught it in her own. He stared at her with surprise for a second, and she could feel the tension practically buzzing in the air between them, when on a sudden whim he pulled her close. As his arm encircled her waist to pull her into an awkward embrace, their eyes locked. Barty studied her face wistfully, sweeping a deviant hair from her face, before closing the remaining space between them and pressing his lips against hers. Scarlet's first reaction was one of shock, before she engaged her brain. Her hand had found it's way into his hair, she felt a surge of rebellion, and suddenly she was kissing him back with an utter disregard for her inhibitions. In his embrace she felt protected somehow, her mind was shielded from the questions and answers that constantly bludgeoned her tired brain. She didn't have to think about the terrible things he had done, they didn't matter. It didn't matter. Her fingers traced the scar that ran down his cheekbone, as Barty deepened the kiss, during which she kept telling herself that it was alright, it wasn't the same person who committed such heinous crimes. It didn't matter.

But it did.

Scarlet ended the kiss abruptly, meeting his intent gaze, "Barty… What are you going to do now?"

He stared back at her, his dark eyes alive, the most alive they had been since before all this mess began. He was barely recognisable from the hollow, husk of a being that had stared from the front page of a thousand Daily Prophets.

"I was afraid your were going to ask me that." he answered, breathlessly. Distracted by her proximity, Barty leant towards her once again, trying to quell her questions with his lips. She placed a hand over his mouth, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, before she straightened her face.

"Are you going to leave?" she asked quietly, trying not to think that of all the queries she had made that day, this was the most important.

Barty opened his mouth to reply, as she lowered her hand, when, with a jolt he doubled up, clutching at his arm in pain.

-

Barty heard Scarlet cry out from somewhere in front of him, as she inclined forward to his aid. He was vaguely aware that her hand was still in his, and he held onto it tightly. His mind was fogged with the searing pain, as he fell to his knees. He felt Scarlet kneel beside him, trying desperately to somehow support him. Looking down at his arm he saw the Dark Mark was red hot against his skin, as it burned into the flesh.

"Voldemort" he muttered, almost retching as a wave of sickness came over him. He could feel Scarlet's pensive eyes on him, "I'm not going to go to him!"

"I know" she answered quietly, clearly as clueless at what to do as him. He felt a reassuring arm circle his shoulders.

"Anything's better than this…" he groaned clutching at his head, which felt like it was splitting in two.

"Sssh…" her arm tightened around him, "You know what happened last time. You just have to try and endure it, the pain should stop soon."

"I don't think I can." he whispered back hoarsely, burying his face in her shoulder.

Scarlet sighed deeply, and they continued to wait, wait until the pain ebbed away.

But it didn't.


	6. Family Ties

Dark Fascination 6 - Family Ties

It felt like fire was burning through his veins, the pain was excruciating as his senses dimmed, already beginning to close down. Barty retched, the urge to be sick overwhelming. He was completely unaware of what was going on around him, unable to discern the objects closest to him as his sight blurred, and all went black.

-

Scarlet sat with him a while before retiring to her own bed, exhausted. Sliding between the covers she sighed, soothed by the familiar surroundings of her room. Comforted, Scarlet relaxed her tense muscles, relieved to finally be allowed some peace, to finally disengage her tired brain. After Barty passed out Scarlet did the best she could to make sure he was comfortable, although he twitched and writhed, unable to escape torment even in his sleep. This seemed to subside after a while however, and Scarlet took the opportunity to try and bring some state of order to the disarray that had engulfed her life. Everything had been so clear, concise, organised. Dull, but organised. It had to be, carefully constructed around her so Scarlet felt she still had some element of control, that she had some effect on the things around her. But now, nothing was black and white anymore. The vibrant, lucid colours of the spectrum had quickly merged to an uncertain grey.

-

Barty awoke with a start, a chink of light blared through a gap in the curtains, assaulting his eyes. With that and the birds twittering incessantly outside, he was surprised he'd managed to sleep at all. Sitting up quickly he looking around at his alien surroundings, trying to piece together his memory, and what had caused the merciless thudding that echoed in his ears. Two sets of claws dug into his feet as he moved, accompanied by a dissatisfied mewl. _Of course__…_He remembered immediately as the memories came flooding back. Running a hand through his hair he yawned, frowning at the grey cat that had stretched itself unceremoniously across legs. Although it appeared relaxed, the creature's attentive eyes were fixed on him, regarding him objectively. Or so he felt.

Unnerved, Barty clambered out of bed, trying his best not to disturb the cat, despite the fact it was as with all felines, impossible. Barty was sure he could hear the buzz of voices from the floor below, and as he stumbled, moaning and groaning onto the landing they became instantly louder. Vague though they were, he was sure one was Scarlet's, this suddenly filled him with panic as he envisioned her turning him over to the Aurors… Or worse.

Quietly descending the stairs, he crept towards the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar. Peering through the gap he could see Scarlet leant against the dining table. She twisted her hair between her fingers distractedly, her gaze fixed on an unseen figure across the room, who it seemed had caught her unawares as she kept looking down at the dressing gown she wore rather pointedly.

"Dad, I still don't understand why you're here. Is there anything wrong?"

"Does a father need a reason to visit his daughter?" a voice answered from across the room. Although Barty couldn't see him, his vision obscured by the door, it was obviously Scarlet's father. He recognised the voice from the many times he had met him as a child. However, Cyrus Bellamy now sounded weary and tired in comparison the energetic man Barty had known.

Scarlet laughed, "Huh, somehow I don't quite believe that. What is it?"

There was a pause.

"I had to take some files up to the Auror Headquarters, and you weren't there." Cyrus answered, hesitantly. He clearly knew he was treading in dangerous territory with his daughter, who looked at him disapprovingly.

"I'm fine, I just felt like taking a few days off…" Scarlet answered, before she deftly changed the subject, "Speaking of, how are things at the Ministry?"

"Oh, y'know…" he answered shortly, with what Barty imagined would be a grimace.

"Have you seen Redric recently?" she asked, pensively.

"No, it seems my children are forever trying to evade me." he answered, with what sounded like a chuckle.

"Perhaps that's because we fear any further encouragement would spawn another oddly named sibling called Maroonius or something daft." Scarlet answered, laughing.

"No, we stopped with the silly names after your brother was born, dear." he replied, "However… I fail to see what's so bad about it, it's a perfectly good, traditional name."

"Exactly" she answered, knowing her brother's dislike of anything remotely old fashioned, which probably had something to do with being inflicted with such a name.

"Dad, there's something I need to talk to you about…" she carried on, hesitantly.

Taking a step forward Barty winced as the floor creaked loudly beneath him and Scarlet glanced fleetingly in his direction. He stepped back, but it was too late. She had already seen him.

"It doesn't matter. Look, Dad. I'm quite busy…" Scarlet said quickly, taking a quick look at the door.

He nodded, before stepping into view. Cyrus' black hair was streaked with grey, and his eyes were rimmed with dark shadows, "I should be going anyway, but if there's anything you need…"

Scarlet stepped forward and embraced him, "I'll come and see you soon, I promise."

"Good." he replied, his careworn face stretching into a smile. Crossing the room he took a pinch of powder from a pot upon the mantelpiece, throwing it into the fire. The flickering flames immediately turned a fluorescent green. As he stepped into it, Scarlet turned and walked towards the door dubiously.

Stepping through it she opened her mouth to speak, but Barty didn't give her the chance. Slamming the door behind closed her, he pushed her back against it roughly. Scarlet opened her mouth to speak, but the breath was knocked out of her, as were the words, something which she was clearly sick and tired of, "Barty, what the-?!"

"What did you tell him!?" he asked, incensed.

"Nothing… I didn't say anything!"

"But you were going to weren't you?"

"Barty, he's my father! I didn't know what to do, I-"

"Nobody can know about this, no one." he glared, trying and somewhat failing to control his temper.

"He wouldn't tell anyone! He's my dad, he-"

"The more people who know about something, the more chance there is it's going to get out. Besides, from what I've seen he's not in the best state of mind right now." he answered, lowering his tone and letting go of her.

Scarlet opened her mouth to argue, but knew he was right, instead she grumbled, "Alright, alright. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Barty nodded, still fairly exasperated, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, just waiting for my bones to knit." she groaned, rubbing her pained ribs.

"Well, who's fault is that?"

"Yes, yes I know." she answered, before suddenly grinning, "Tell you what, I'll make it up to you…"

Suddenly looking very interested he replied, "Yes?"

"How long is it since you've been out? Properly I mean."

"I've been _outside_ before." he replied, affronted.

"Yes, but properly, where there are _people_."

He blinked, "Well, I can't technically. They might recognise me."

"Not in a muggle village they won't." Scarlet answered, rushing towards the front door eagerly, before tossing him a coat from a peg on the wall.

"Wait, what? Barty asked, mystified, "And why do you have so much men's stuff?"

Scarlet shrugged as she buttoned up her jacket, "Oh, didn't I tell you? My brother sort of lives here too."

"What!?"

"Oh, don't worry, his job takes him away for long periods of time, but I still have most of his stuff if he ever decides to come back." she paused, "Are you going to just stand there staring at me or are you coming?"

Barty followed, before adding grumpily, "You do realise it's the middle of summer, it's not that cold."

"Oh, really?"

-

Once outside, Barty had to admit, it was a relief to be out, he had began to feel very claustrophobic in the small cottage. He never had liked being in confined places, even less so now. It always gave him the feeling he was trapped, and despite his newfound freedom, it didn't take much to invoke the memory of bars, locking him in and leaving him alone in the dark. It was suffocating.

However, this didn't change the fact that every turn of the path he expected some cowled spectre to jump, shrieking from the hedge and drag him back to the Dark Lord's service. Even the despondent fog that clung to them seemed unreal, so ominous, but as Scarlet had already explained, it was the same everywhere. Her prediction that the weather would anything but warm was correct, as she happily kept reminding him. Despite his miserable surroundings he found Scarlet's cheerfulness distracted him from his own pessimism, and the bleak countryside which rolled on for miles around them.

Walking side by side they entered the tiny village, within which she assured him yes, it was actually _meant_ to be that quiet. He stopped to look around at his surroundings, slowly taking in the cobblestones at his feet, the ivy strewn houses with their pretty gardens and the newsagents which nestled in the corner, providing the villagers with sugar, teabags, and other necessities. They made their way towards this, a bell jangling above them as they stepped through the door announcing their entrance to the shop.

"Just don't touch anything…" Scarlet muttered under her breath, an artificial smile darting across her lips, "Mrs Piper, Hi."

The woman leaning on the counter returned her smile, "Hello, Scarlet. How're things?"

Rooting in a tall contraption, Scarlet took out a bottle of milk, placing it on the counter. Barty followed dumbfounded.

"Oh, fine thanks."

She saw the shopkeeper looking oddly at Barty, "This is my, uh…"

The pair exchanged a worried glance, trying to think up a ruse.

"-Brother" Scarlet answered, quickly.

She frowned, "I thought you only had one brother?", but clearly didn't really deem it very important as she beamed, pressing a few buttons on the till. Thankfully, this was something which Barty actually recognised, "And that's 78p, dear."

Barty let out a fake laugh, "Oh, she's just kidding. Not that embarrassed by me are you?"

Scarlet gave him look which told him better than any words could that she didn't like where he was going with this, unfortunately for her he took this as his cue to go ahead, "I'm her boyfriend."

As if to back up his point, he tossed a casual arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, that's right." Scarlet reassured Mrs Piper, whilst digging her arm sharply into Barty's ribs and glaring at him with all fierceness she could muster. It didn't prove very effective though as Barty only grinned back in defiance enjoying his chance to embarrass her.

Thankfully, their host didn't notice but beamed rather enthusiastically, "Oh, that's lovely…"

Blushing, Scarlet rooted in her pocket for muggle currency before finally banging her change on the desk and grabbing the plastic bag containing her purchase.

Taking hold of Barty's arm tightly she dragged him from the shop, stopping only to say a fleeting farewell to the confused shopkeeper.

Once they were outside she scowled at him and pushed him away from her, "What did you do _that_ for?"

"Well, I had to think of something, and seen as though you failed to come up with anything plausible…"

"Well, that's not my fault, I swear they know _everything_ about me. That's what they must do all day, talk about me. How exciting." she answered sulkily.

"I don't why you're so bothered anyway, what does it matter what they think?"

Barty asked looking at her thoughtfully.

"It doesn't." she answered with a shrug.

"Besides, it didn't seem to be a problem yesterday." he answered, quirking an eyebrow.

"Hey-"

"Shush." Barty froze suddenly and held up his hand, "I know you said it was quiet but… Unless I've been misinformed, shouldn't there be birds singing, dogs barking… You know, general noise."

Scarlet looked at him, "Are you shivering?"

"Uh… Yes?" Barty looked bemused.

"Because it's cold. I mean it was before… But it wasn't _this _cold…"

They shared look of horror, as they both came to the same terrible conclusion.

"Dementors."


	7. With a Whisper

Before she knew it Scarlet was running as fast as she could down the cobbled street, her heart was pounding frantically, fiercely against her chest. Barty was just ahead of her, maintaining a surprisingly fast speed despite the fact his head darted around every other second searching for their pursuers. Her eyes however, were fixed on the quickly approaching fog, before they briefly met his as Barty glanced behind him. They didn't speak, the fear each found in the other's eyes had spoken volumes. The pavement eventually diminished to nothing more than a haphazard pathway, which lead onto the fields which stretched before them, eventually directing itself back past Scarlet's home. Her only thoughts were that if they could reach it then they would be safe. This wasn't strictly true, it was unlikely they would find solace there. They would probably find the place swarming with Dementors instead.

Barty threw himself over the gate at the edge of the field, landing remarkably nimbly. He paused and looked around, his eyebrows furrowed perceptibly. As she reached him he helped her over the gate, Scarlet became acutely aware she was managing this with nowhere near the same sort of grace, practically falling into his arms on landing.

"Nearly there." she breathed, the brief faraway look in his eyes sent an icy shiver down her spine. Feeling awkward, Scarlet glanced away.

"But what will we find when we get there…?"

"I'm not sure, but it seems like we've lost them… For the meantime." she frowned, looking behind her worriedly, but seeing nothing of the force that threatened them. Even the air seemed warmer.

Barty nodded, "Not that that makes me feel any better… It should have been easy for them to catch us. Everything about this just feels like a trap."

"Well then, it seems like you're going to need this." Scarlet replied, holding out his wand in her open palm.

He stared at her wide-eyed, "You're… You're giving it me back?"

Scarlet nodded, "Desperate times and all that."

He reached forward gingerly, extricating the wand from her fingers, "Thanks."

"Not that that means I trust you." she said breezily, the smile that tugged at her lips suggested otherwise.

"Of course not." he replied grinning gratefully.

"I suppose we better get going."

Nodding, Barty reached out his hand to take hers, before changing his mind with a frown, "Come on then."

Slowly but resolutely they followed the path, high spirits forgotten. Scarlet stayed a couple of paces behind, keeping watch on the trail at their rear, wand at the ready. Suddenly, Barty stopped abruptly in front of her. A little too abruptly as Scarlet walked straight into him.

"Sorry - What is it?" she whispered.

"That." he replied, looking grim as he pointed towards the sky.

In the distance, above her house (which had just come into view) the Dark Mark was scrawled across the sky, the inky blackness stood out against the cold, grey fog. Twisted and contorted, the clouds around it had turned dark as though infected by the evil which seemed to emanate from it.

"Oh no."

Barty rested a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"No, no, no. It's not possible," she murmured softly, "how did they find us?"

"They have their ways." Barty replied darkly, "Scarlet, it might be best if we apparate out of here, there's nothing we can do.

"Are you kidding? That's my home! I have to see what happened… I have to." Scarlet was adamant, fixing him with a steely look.

"You can't seriously be thinking of going back there!"

She ignored Barty, and instead paced back and forth in front of him, twisting her fingers in her hands, "This doesn't make sense, why would they put a mark above the house if they didn't find us there?"

"Look, I don't know. It's probably a ruse, they're trying to trick us. We have to go." his voice rose angrily as he attempted to disregard the strong impulse he felt, which was to flee.

"I know, but there's something weird about this. It just doesn't seem right. I would have known if someone has passed through my wards. I'm sure of it." Scarlet frowned as she tried to decipher the answer to the question, to find the key that fitted the lock, "Unless."

"Unless what?" he asked, implementing every measure of self control he had to ensure he didn't loose his temper. Barty didn't like where this was going.

"Unless someone the wards recognise took them down. Even if it was for only a second, the Death Eaters could have gotten in… And there's only one other person who would have been able to do it…"

Scarlet stopped, her face suddenly white.

"What?" Barty looked at her anxiously, "Scarlet what is it?"

"Redric." she whispered. Without stopping for an explanation she dashed off in the direction of her house, praying her assumptions were wrong.

-

Barty's stomach took an agonizing lurch as he sprinted after her. They were coming ever closer to danger, and Barty felt responsible. He had put Scarlet at risk by even associating himself with her, and he had been a fool to believe otherwise.

As Scarlet climbed over the low fence he saw her drop down the other side, but she didn't reappear. Following quietly he jumped down beside her, "Scarlet, this is crazy."

"You're staying then?" Scarlet asked, surprised.

"Well, I can't just leave you can I?"

He refrained from mentioning that he hadn't the slightest idea where he'd go.

Scarlet smiled at him fondly, "Thanks."

Suddenly self-conscious, Barty avoided her gaze, "Well, it's my fault you're in this mess anyway."

She shook her head, and motioned for him to follow her. Slowly, they crept forward through the dense bushes and close trees. In this position they were hidden from any prying eyes which looked on from the house, or the road.

Scarlet gasped, and on closer inspection of the sight before them, Barty could see why. Smoke billowed from the windows of the cottage, the acrid smell of burning filling his nostrils and making his eyes stream. In the front garden stood a number of hooded figures, swathed on black, their wands all pointed at a man slumped on the ground. Over the crackle of fire, Barty could hear harsh voices, none of which he could recognise from this distance.

In that split second, Scarlet made a decision, "Wait here."

Lurching forward she made for the Death Eaters. Deftly, Barty caught hold of her arm and pulled her back.

"I have to do this." she said, firmly. When he didn't loosen his grip, her voice raised an octave in panic, "Barty, he's my brother!"

"I know, it's alright." Barty answered in an attempt to placate her, "I'll go and… Well, try and get to him somehow."

"If they see you, they'll know you were here for sure, for all we know they only suspect it." Scarlet replied sensibly.

"Well how are you going to take on three, maybe more, Death Eaters on your own?"

"I'll think of something, I can't just sit here and do nothing." she looked him straight in the eyes, and he could see the desperation within them.

Already half giving in, he groaned. "And where will we go?"

"My father's. He can protect us until we can figure out what to do."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll welcome me with open arms." Barty replied, flippantly.

"Well, do you have any better suggestions!?" Scarlet cried, fixing him with a frustrated glare.

"Scarlet, they're going to find me out sooner or later. It may as well be sooner, and on our terms."

"I suppose…" she shook her head to try and clear it, torn between protecting her brother or her friend, "But, if they get the chance, they'll kill you."

Barty shrugged, "It's nothing more than I deserve."

Taking no notice of this, she carried on speaking, "The best chance we've got is to disarm them, and then disapparate."

He nodded, "Sounds like the _only_ chance we've got."

There was a pause, as neither knew what to say to the other. This silence was broken however, as the cruel voices began again in the background, and they both realised the need for haste.

"I'll go first, then you come out from behind the house. They'll be distracted." grasping her arms, he muttered this hastily thrown together plan in her ear. Before darting off purposefully to towards the Death Eaters. Every muscle in his body was tense, and his senses seemed erratic. Everything seemed brighter, louder, clearer, despite being hazy at the same time. The adrenaline in his body rushed at the thought of being able to actually face what he had been running away from for so long.

"Just be careful." Scarlet called after him, as she heaved a particularly hollow sigh.

-

Almost an hour earlier, Redric had appeared at his sister's front door.

Stifling a yawn, he knocked on it, tapping his foot impatiently to the rhythm of an inescapably cheery muggle song that he had heard, and now found impossible to get out of his head. After waiting a further minute, dropped his suitcase onto the ground and rooted inside his pockets until he eventually found his key. He turned it in the lock and stepped inside. Redric's appearance was met by a long, languid meow, and a huge set of amber eyes staring up at him balefully.

"You're in a fine mood I see." he chuckled, reaching down and stroking the cat before returning to the doorway to drag his suitcase through it. Dumping it in the hallway he wandered into the kitchen, unintentionally trudging the dirt from his boots into the carpet. Searching through the cupboards he finally found what he was looking for, pulling out the bottle of Firewhisky he took a swig, not bothering to find a glass despite the fact he knew his sister would kill him if she found out. Which was why he wouldn't tell her.

Redric leant against the table with a satisfied sigh, contemplating what he would do with all his spare time. He had a whole week of work-free bliss before he would have to leave, once again, for Romania. True, he probably enjoyed his job far more than your average wizard was supposed to, but he couldn't help feeling a little homesick very time he left.

Yawning, he stared into the kitchen mirror lazily as he ran a hand through his dark hair, his father's hair; the only real resemblance he bore to either of his parents.

Unlike his sister, who looked so painfully like his mother. However, both he and his sister shared their mother's eyes, eyes so deep and profound and unnervingly blue.

Perhaps that was why his father found it so hard to look at them, the two imperfect imitations who were all he had left of his beloved wife. Not that his father meant it in any vindictive sense, he just couldn't help it.

"Quite the Narcissus aren't we?"

Redric flinched, the voice had come from nowhere. Looking upwards he saw the clock, not knowing whether to be relieved or offended and wondering how on earth Scarlet put up with it. Looking back in the mirror, he sighed, his train of thought lost.

His solace was to be once again interrupted however, as there was a great thud at the window. He turned to see a dazed looking owl career of the glass and into the garden. Perturbed, he ran to the window and opened it, allowing the disgruntled looking bird to fly in (rather haphazardly) and settle on the counter. Untying the letter from it's leg, he opened it hastily, recognising the neat, elegant handwriting immediately. As he read through it, his pale skin flushed from pink to crimson, but he didn't notice, so intent were his eyes on the letter. He finished reading with a grin, before searching the kitchen for something to write with. Eventually he was forced to use magical means, and with a flick of his wand, a piece of parchment and a quill came zooming towards him. Scribbling across the parchment with handwriting the recipient of the letter would argue was illegible, he wrote his reply.

_Nate,_

_We'll have to make it tomorrow, I have boring things like unpacking to do today. Say half 12 at the Leaky Cauldron?_

_Can't wait,_

_Redric_

_P.S. No more arguments, I'm buying you a new owl. That bag of feathers hasn't yet grasped the concept of windows, and it doesn't look like he ever will. _

Attaching the letter to the tired owl's leg, he looked at it apologetically, patting it's feathers. With a flutter it flew back out of the window, fortunately without mishap. Fairly pleased with himself, Redric took another gulp of Firewhisky and sat down, closing his weary eyes. However, it seemed fate was determined to interrupt his relaxation, as there was a loud knock at the door. With a groan, he pulled himself to his feet, and went to answer it. On reaching it, he made to lift the catch, at the same time lifting the magical wards with a whisper of wandless magic. Before he knew what was happening there was an almighty crash, as the door was blasted off it's hinges. Redric was knocked off his feet by the small explosion, landing rather uncomfortably on the bare floorboards. Coughing and spluttering he rolled to onto his side, peering through the dust as it cleared.

Two wizards strolled in through the small cottage door, simultaneously pointing their wands at Redric's chest. One of them turned to the other as they hauled Redric to his feet, "I told you. Death Eater's don't bloody knock!"


	8. Unwelcome Visitors

I know this has taken forever, my apologies for being a terrible updater.

BUT. My exams are over now, and my timetable is much clearer , so hopefully I will update more.  
However, I have been working on some Original Writing. I'll try my best! ;)

-

Dragging him from the house, the Death Eaters continued to argue, ignoring Redric's cries of surprise. The first of the two wrenched his wand from his grasp as Redric pulled it from his pocket.

"Well, what other way would we have been able to get past the wards?" the second Death Eater asked, his eyes narrowing behind the mask that concealed the rest of his face.

The other shrugged, "I have to admit, torturing muggles is my favourite way of getting attention, knocking… Call me old fashioned, but it's not exactly why I got into this sort of thing."

He threw Redric onto the ground in front of him, and both men once again pointed their wands at his face, despite continuing their rather heated discussion.

Redric sucked on his bleeding lip, content to let them squabble whilst he desperately tried to formulate some kind of escape plan.

"Well, blowing the door of it's hinges is just _so_ subtle," the other Death Eater replied sarcastically. "And, if you haven't noticed, we have other business to attend too." He pointed to Redric who lay, bewildered on the cold stone floor.

"Look, I don't know what it is that you want…" Redric muttered, finally finding his voice.

"Oh, really?" the first Death Eater said, stepping forward and kneeling in front of Redric. "See. We're looking for someone, and we think maybe you could help us.

You have one of two options. You could just tell us what we want to know, and my friend and I will be on our merry way." He gestured to the man behind him, with a long sweep of his black cloak.

"If not. Well, we'll just have to force the information out of you." the other snickered, twisting his wand eagerly between his fingers.

Redric stared at them, "What are you talking about?"

The first Death Eater leaned nearer to him, and Redric found himself transfixed by the eyes which glinted maliciously behind the horrific mask, "Don't act all coy, kid. We know Barty Crouch. That girl, Scarlet lives here. Funny coincidence that you just so happen to be hanging around her house is it not?"

Redric blinked, totally stunned by this statement, "But… That doesn't even make sense. He's dead, well, practically. What does he have to do with me and my sister?" His heart sank, Barty _had _had a lot to do with his sister, but that was all in the past.

"Wrong on both counts I'm afraid," the second Death Eater sniffed, before turning to the other. "He doesn't know anything, we're wasting time here."

"I don't know…" the first Death Eater looked at Redric searchingly. "So the girl's your sister, eh?"

Redric didn't say anything, cringing internally at making such a stupid slip of the tongue, as the full realisation of the situation he was in hit him. He was outnumbered, didn't have his wand, and all he knew was that his sister was in some way involved.

"Hmm. It looks like our luck is about to change, my friend." the first Death Eater said, speaking to the other as he got to his feet.

"I was just thinking the same thing." the second Death Eater replied, laughing coldly, before turning to Redric, "Are you close to your sister, _boy_?"

Redric didn't answer, glaring up at them defiantly.

"I asked you a question!" he said, lunging forwards and grasping Redric's face between his thumb and forefinger painfully.

Redric let out a surprised gasp, and tried to struggle backwards, but it was to no avail. Both Death Eaters laughed in unison, jeering at him with unseen faces.

"I bet you are… And I'm also willing to bet she'd come to save you, if she knew you were in trouble." he commented, his eyes glittering once more as he shoved Redric backwards, letting go of his face as he did so. "Looks like we have time for a little fun after all. "

There was another snigger from his companion, who extended his wand arm, "Crucio!"

Before he even had chance to brace himself, a blinding pain seared through Redric's body. He couldn't think, he could barely breath, the only thing he was the conscious of was the far off laughter that rang in his ears and his own, ringing screams. He dug his fingers into the damp dirt, his eyes screwed tightly together, trying to block out the pain. He wasn't sure for how long this went on, but to him seconds seemed like hours. The only thing he was sure of was the harsh throb of his heart, and the dull ache that pained his whole body. Until, all of a sudden, the pain left him.

Redric looked up, his eyes streaming, somehow he had ended up lain on his front, though he didn't remember having moved. He turned over swiftly to face the Death Eaters, one of whom was still crouched at his feet. They were both laughing, taunting him. The one whom had tortured him appeared to be wiping a tear of laughter from his face, "Oh, that really does never get old."

"What do you want!? Tell me!" Redric yelled up at them, his shoulders shaking.

"Oh, you're hardly in a position to be ordering us around, Mr Bellamy." the one knelt at his feet replied, "And besides, we don't particularly want anything from you. You're just a bit of entertainment for us while we wait."

Redric stared at them, unable to keep the stammer from his voice, "You… You don't…?"

"We are, however, very bored." the other interjected, nastily.

"You don't know anything at all do you, boy?" the first Death Eater said, smugly. "You have nothing to barter with, no leverage, you may as well lay down and die like the little blood traitor you are. However. Your dear sister will no doubt come for you, and when she does we will kill her too."

"Could we kill him?" the other asked hesitantly, a hungry look in his eyes, "It's not like anyone would miss him. Well, not anyone who matters anyway."

"Hmm." the Death Eater at his feet considered this at length.

The other stepped towards him, "We could… We could just do it."

Redric's heart beat faster against his chest as he attempted to speak, to argue, to raise some sort of defence, but his throat was so dry he could barely form words. He knew better than the Death Eaters, he knew there would be no one coming to save him. No one knew he was there.

"Yes. We'd be doing the Dark Lord a service. Tying up the loose ends…" the first Death Eater said, having come to a conclusion. He rolled up his sleeves.

The second nodded, "Yes, I think so. But, my, my, we're forgetting…"

He raised his arm, revealing a heavily scarred hand, as he flicked his wand lazily at the sky, "Morsmordre."

There was a bright flash, and the Dark Mark appeared, twisting menacingly in the sky. Redric went numb as blind panic gripped him. This was it, there was nothing he could do.

The Death Eater nearest lent closer, lifting a hand to push his hood back, "You should always look death in the face, boy…"

He wrenched the skull-like mask from his face, revealing his pallid, twisted features. At that Redric made a decision. Quickly, he kicked out at the Death Eater with all the force he could muster. His foot connected with the man's jaw with a satisfying crunch. Seconds later, Redric had dragged himself to his feet.

The man yelled in pain, and from the sound of pursuing footsteps Redric could tell the Death Eater was already on his feet and close on his heels. His companion was not far behind.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Hearing a voice cry the killing curse, Redric jumped to one side, a flash of green light streaking past him, missing him by inches.

"Stupefy!" another cried, and this time Redric had no time to dodge it. He felt the spell hit him squarely between his shoulder blades. His legs seemed to stop moving of their own volition, and Redric went crashing the ground as the curse rendered him unconscious.

-

Barty strode towards the Death Eaters, the adrenaline still pumping fiercely through his veins. Neither of them were wearing their masks, and Barty identified them once again as Dolohov and Rookwood. The former appeared to already have sustained some injury, as there was blood about his mouth, and he clutched at his jaw with a weary hand. Despite this the pair were bickering, or so it seemed to him, and hadn't even noticed Barty approach. Out of the corner of his eye Barty could see the outline of Scarlet, as she darted through the trees and around the other side of the house

"I would get stuck with a pyromaniac like you! What the hell did you set fire to the house for!?" Dolohov yelled.

"Because… I wanted to!" Rookwood replied, trying and failing to come up with a proper excuse.

"There is no need to Incendio everything in sight!" Dolohov answered curtly, massaging his temples angrily. He sighed. "Now are we going to stand here arguing, or can we get back to the matter at hand?"

Barty took 'the matter at hand' to be Scarlet's little brother, who was laid in the grass. Barty hoped he was only unconscious, guessing from what the pair had said however, it seemed unlikely Redric was dead. Death Eaters rarely cleaned up after themselves, unless of course, they were waiting for _him_.

This seemed much more likely.

"Seen as though you can't keep your wand to yourself, I'll do it." Dolohov continued, turning to the immobile form of Redric.

"Now, now gentlemen." Barty said, coolly, as both Death Eaters whirled around. Rookwood gave a great start as he saw him, but Dolohov didn't move, the skin around his mouth tightening almost imperceptibly. Both pointed their wands at him immediately, as Rookwood recovering, barked victoriously, "Crouch! So nice of you to join us!"

"Thought it was about time we all caught up, had a little chat… You know." Barty shrugged, his tone relaxed.

"Oh, yes. But it's not just us who want to talk with you is it, Crouch?" Dolohov asked him coldly, smirking as Barty swallowed, his unruffled demeanour slipping for a moment. He gripped the wand in the pocket of his jeans tightly, readying himself for a fight.

"Yes, the Dark Lord is very, very angry with you, isn't he?" Dolohov cooed, the smirk on his face growing wider.

The square-jawed Rookwood laughed at this, before chipping in, "Very angry indeed."

Barty whipped his wand out of his pocket, pointing it at the two men in turn, "Honestly, you two really have been working on the cliché villain act since I last saw you haven't you?" He nodded towards Redric, "And far be it for me to act as your conventional hero - because Merlin knows I am most definitely _not_ - you should let him go. He doesn't have anything to do with this. It's me you want."

Rookwood snickered, disregarding Barty's casual insults, "But we were having so much _fun._"

"Yes… Just precious isn't he?" Dolohov said, sarcastically. He turned away from Barty, spitting blood onto the ground, and massaging his clearly very painful jaw.

"Well, it looks like he certainly did one over on you" Barty said smirking, and gesturing needlessly to Dolohov's burst lip. Blood was slowly dripping down the man's chin, which was swelling a rather fantastic shade of purple as all along the line of his jaw dark bruises were forming.

Dolohov ignored this, merely arching an eyebrow in reply, "I suppose this means your no longer our Ally then. You're no longer a Death Eater."

It wasn't a question, the situation was quite obvious to all three men.

"What do you think, _Antonin_?" Barty replied, putting particular emphasis on the name, aware that all this was creating sufficient distraction for Scarlet.

Dolohov moved towards him, his partner remaining behind him, his wand trained on Barty's heart.

"Well, you know what they say. One a death Eater, always a Death Eater." Dolohov replied, icily, his eyes narrowing to slits. "But in this case… I think not. You're a filthy traitor, Crouch, who isn't worthy of his pure blood, never mind the Dark Lord's service."

"Oh yes, how is your master? The murderous bastard." Barty answered, his pretence of calmness strained as he gritted his teeth angrily.

Rookwood dived forward, spitting at Barty's feet, "How dare you!"

Dolohov held out a placating hand to his partner, who remained where he was, clenching his fists angrily.

"You're one to talk aren't you? As much as it disgusts me to say it, you have a lot in common with the Dark Lord don't you? I believe you too, killed your own father. How ironic." Dolohov said, smiling complacently once again.

"Well, we all have our little problems… And that isn't irony, it's just unfortunate." Barty replied, his self restraint almost at breaking point. How he longed the man before him.

"Hardly surprising this though is it?" Dolohov continued, smoothly, "You've always been a coward."

"Oho. Now who's being hypocritical? The pot calling the kettle black and all that."

Barty sniffed, "And, as lovely as this all is, I really _must_ be going."

Barty glanced behind both men, catching sight of Scarlet peering from behind the house. She nodded at him resolutely.

"Expelliarmus!" he and Scarlet both yelled in unison. Both spells streaked forwards as Rookwood's wand went flying through the air and into the nearby bushes. Dolohov's wand however, remained firmly in his hand, as he span around immediately and thrust it in Scarlet's direction, "Impedimenta!"

The spell hit Scarlet straight in the chest, sending her sprawling backwards, landing several metres back from where she had previously been stood. Without stopping to think and forgetting his wand completely, Barty threw himself at Dolohov, incensed. Knocking him to the ground Barty hit him, simultaneously attempting to scrabble the wand from Dolohov's hand. Dolohov kicked out, trying to throw him off as another figure joined the fray, dealing Barty a blow to the side of his head which made stars dance before his eyes.

As if from far away, Barty heard Scarlet gasp, "Incarcerous!"

Rookwood fell over mid-punch, as ropes appeared from nowhere, binding him tightly and causing him to fall to the ground. Barty used this distraction to his advantage, wrestling the wand from Dolohov's grip and jumping to his feet, kicking out at Dolohov's ribs as he did so.

He moved quickly towards Scarlet who looked up and smiled at him thinly. There was no obvious damage but Scarlet's hands were shaking, though her right still gripped her wand tightly.

He looked between both her and the momentarily incapacitated Death Eaters, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "I'm fine"

Barty held out a hand, and as she took it pulled her to her feet. They both looked pensively at the two Death Eaters.

Rookwood lay on the ground, fighting against the binds which had ensnared him, practically unable to move. Dolohov in contrast was sitting rather calmly, as though he got his nose broken every day.

"_Scarlet?" _he heard a tremulous voice enquire, worriedly.

"That's all I need…" Barty muttered under his breath, as he turned to see a dazed looking Redric staring at them both.

"Redric!" Scarlet cried, letting go of Barty's hand and dashing towards her brother, pulling him to her in a firm embrace. "What are you doing here!?"

"But… What's going on?" Redric asked, bewildered. "I was about to ask you the same question. But more to the point, what is _he_ doing here?"

"I'll explain later. I'm just glad you're alright." Scarlet replied, loosening her grip and regarding her brother sceptically.

Barty turned his gaze to Dolohov, who appeared to be attempting to get to his feet, rather shambolically. He pointed his wand at Dolohov, who stopped moving, watching them cautiously. The anger that had momentarily left him rushed back. momentarily left him rushing back. Rookwood had stopped squirming, finally conceding defeat. Dolohov however merely stared at Barty intently, a glimmer of a smirk playing at his bloody lips. On the whole, it was a rather disconcerting image.

"You disgusting, vile, little…" Barty spat at Dolohov, advancing towards him.

"If you ever, **ever **do that again…" He jerked his wand at Dolohov violently.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your girlfriend? What a shame." Dolohov retorted under his breath, so only Barty could hear.

"You shut your mouth" Barty answered, gritting his teeth.

"Or what? What are you going to me? Not that it's relevant. This is still going to end in the same way, Crouch. You can't hide from the Dark Lord forever. He'll find you, it's inevitable, and when he does… Well, I'll leave that to your imagination."

"You'll die Crouch!" Rookwood screamed, failing to show the same amount of control as his partner, "You'll die with her screams ringing in your ears."

There was a mad glint to his eyes, where Dolohov's face was once again serene. This only made Barty hate the man even more.

There was a slight pause, in which all Barty could hear was the angry pounding of his own heart. He was vaguely aware that Scarlet and Redric's attention was now fixed upon him, but he didn't care. He raised Dolohov's wand once more, "Cruci-!"

"Barty! **No!**"Scarlet yelled.

Barty looked between both her and the Death Eater, "But, he…"

He never finished his sentence however, as he noticed the look of relief that crossed Dolohov's face, as though he had suddenly remembered something important. Dolohov reached into his pocket and before Barty could react, he had pulled out Redric's wand. He made a slashing motion with his wand, producing purple flames, which shot right at Barty. Before he could bellow a counter curse, the spell hit him somewhere near his navel, and he was knocked off his feet. Two pairs of arms reached out and caught him as he collided with an unseen body.

After the initial shock had dissipated he was gripped by a blinding pain, collapsing against the arms which held him upright.

Through the haze he could hear two distinctly different voices shouting.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Incarcerous!"

Flashes of light and yells accompanied this sound, until all noise seemed to stop abruptly with a snapping sound. Shortly after he was aware of a yellow blur and someone murmuring his name.

"We have to get out of here. Help me carry him."

Barty felt himself lifted to his feet, although he wasn't aware that they were supporting him. He had a sudden feeling of weightlessness, that he had no control of his limbs, and his head lolled onto someone's shoulder.

"Where can we go? If you hadn't noticed your friend here is supposed to be in Azkaban. Soulless."

"I'm well aware of that, thank you. Merlin, he doesn't look good does he?"

The voices buzzed loudly, barely audible and Barty clamped his hands over his ears, trying to block the sounds out.

"Let's just leave him."

"Redric. No. I know where we can go. At least for a while."

"Alright. But you owe me an explanation."

"I know."

All of a sudden the intensity of the pain increased, as the whole world felt as it were crushing in on him, choking him, as they apparated away.


	9. Phantoms of Fatigue

This one's kinda short, but, well, it's meant to be. ;)

Hopefully Chapter 10 should be out soon. That is if I get over the last episode of Doctor Who...  
D:

-

Scarlet sat alone in an old armchair as darkness set in all around her. She was hunched over the slumbering Barty, who twitched and fidgeted in his sleep. His breathing was shallow and irregular and the skin of his face and exposed chest glistened with sweat, suggesting his rest was far from peaceful.

She sighed and continued to dab at his face with the damp rag held in her hand, before brushing the matted, light brown hair from his face with the other. Pausing she watched him uncertainly, unsure whether he had stirred or it was once again an act of her imagination. The door of the cabin clattered open, causing the whole thing to shudder, dust to drift down from the wooden ceiling, and Scarlet to jump. She whirled around quickly, only to glare at her brother as he dropped the bags which he was holding onto the table, and sank into one of spindly chairs next to it.

"You are truly one of the nosiest creatures in existence" Scarlet frowned, distractedly.

Redric sniffed, but ignored this rebuke, "Still no change?"

"No" Scarlet sighed, before turning her back on her brother and looking down at Barty once again. "I've tried everything I can think of, and still nothing."

Scarlet felt at Barty's forehead with first her palm, then the back of her hand. She shook her head, "He's burning up."

"Well, you're not a healer, you've done your best." Redric replied, reasonably. "But you just have to accept that… Well. Maybe we can't help him."

Scarlet said nothing, and instead resumed her anxious vigil.

-

Over the next few hours, Barty drifted in and out of consciousness. He heard snatches of hurried pieces of conversation and glimpses of tired, wary faces, none of whom his muddled brain could recognise or make sense of. He wasn't much aware of his surroundings either, which in his rare moments of clarity always seemed dark and confined. He was, however, acutely aware of the pain in his abdomen, which felt like it was attempting to rip it's way right out of his skin. As time went on, the pain did seem to subside somewhat, he wasn't sure why this was, but every so often he thought he heard someone murmur a healing charm. It wasn't just his stomach that pained him however, he felt hot and irritated all over. He tossed and turned but couldn't seem to cool down, his skin was itchy and clammy, so that he could no longer catch any traces of sleep. He existed in a half doze, only sometimes aware of what was happening around him. Sleep evaded him for a long time, but even then his dreams provided no solace. They were all very foggy, unclear and contained snatches of images, memories happy, sad and everything in between. The sound of harsh, rattling breath as all the happiness was drained from the world, playing Quidditch with his friends, a confined cell, an awkward kiss, blinding pain, his father yelling at him after he broke his favourite chair, the dark crimson colour of blood, his mother smiling down at him, a flash of green, Scarlet…

Until, quite suddenly, he was running through a dense forest, and where before everything had seemed hazy, the things which swam before him were vivid and clear. Screeching to a halt he stopped and listened. Had he woken up? Had he… Died?

The former he knew to be impossible. Barty knew he had not left his bed.

_He doesn't look good does he?_

There were the voices, far off and distant, but they were there. He thought he recognised them from somewhere, but right now he could not comprehend it.

_He might not last the night._

With a lurch he started to run again. He did not, could not, stop running.The wind which buffeted at the thick trees around him whistled past as he hurtled onwards, never even pausing to catch a breath and grasped at the stitch prickling in his side which felt so real. He had to wake up.

_That spell… Did you recognise it? I've never seen anything like it; there's not a scratch on him, but internally it's wreaked havoc. The fever doesn't help, either._

His breath hitched and caught in his throat as he sprinted onwards, blindly through the darkness. He had to find the source of the voices, if he could the maybe he would wake up. He would not die.

Just then, he came to a clearing.

_Maybe we should just… Go? _

_What?_

A light that before had not managed to perforate the tops of the leafy trees, poured into copse. It was seeming directed towards the middle of the clearing, almost like a spotlight.

_You know. Leave him. I'm sorry but look at the state of him. He doesn't have long _

_left, there's no point risking our lives too._

Squinting he was sure he could just make out a vague figure, stood rigid and unmoving, silhouetted by the bright light.

_You don't mean that._

He staggered towards it, trying his best to ignore the voices that rang through his head, "Hello?"

The figure turned, but from this distance he could not make out their features.

_No… I guess I don't. I just don't want the same to happen to us._

Cautiously he moved towards it, until he at last he recognised who it was. His insides turned to ice.

_What do you reckon he's dreaming about?_

"F-Father?"

Bartemius Crouch Senior was stood neatly before him, his dark hair groomed and parted to perfection, his black suit utterly spotless. The pencil moustache twitched convulsively on his upper lip as it always did when he was displeased with something. It had tended to do so a lot when Barty was around.

_Who knows? Probably you. I mean… Well… Are you two together? You used to be didn't you?_

_Sort of… Not really. It was complicated. Some things never change I suppose._

_You could do with taking your own advice I think. People don't change either._

Then the forest was silent, and all other thoughts were wiped from his mind as he stared at the figure of his father, horrified. The man looked at him with a hazy, slightly delirious expression, as though waking from a long sleep.

"Barty?"

Barty blinked, he didn't remember the last time his father had called him by his first name and rarely had he heard his father speak in such a way. He had been constantly referred to as "son" and nearer to the end, simply, "him." His tone of voice was neither authoritative or annoyed, he simply sounded lost.

_Barty. Wake up._

He felt something touch his forehead, and his hand shot upwards as he felt at his face. He looked around, even more confused than he had been before. Turning back to his father he saw the look of uncertainty clear, and his expression quickly turned to one of rage, his face turning white rather than flushing, just as Barty's did when he was angry. "You!"

Barty choked as he turned once again to look at him, "Father…"

"You are no son of mine!" the older man made to move towards him, perhaps to strike him, but he stopped abruptly. He continued in a tired voice "Such a shame, you were such a _good_ boy…."

_Wake up._

His hand closed around something as Barty prised his eyelids open with a jolt, and found himself staring up at a low ceiling. His head was propped up on several pillows, and he felt a dull ache as he tried to move it. He gasped for air as though winded, but instead of getting slower his breathing quickened as he attempted to fight back the panic which was rising in his chest.

"Drink" a voice insisted, and he complied as a glass was pressed into his shaky hand. He drank the water gratefully, almost slopping it down his front in his haste.

"I saw… Father." he said, breathlessly, as he finished.

The glass was removed from his weak grip as the hand that was resting on his

shoulder patted him reassuringly, "It's alright. You were just dreaming."

"Yeah. Right." he ran a hand through his hair tiredly, before lying back down, the pain which constricted his chest lessening. Barty was surprised at how rough his voice sounded, it was like someone had ran gravel over his tongue as he slept.

"Not a very good Death Eater are you? That could have been Veritaserum you know. Or something worse." a cheerful voice enquired after several minutes silence, in which his breathing blessedly retuned to normal.

"Well, veritaserum _is_ clear," Barty said, leaning his head back against the pillows with a groan, "but I don't see why you would need to use it. And I don't see you trying to poison me, Scarlet."

The was a yellow blur as Scarlet leaned over him, and he thought he saw her smile, "How did you know it was me?"

"Who else would it be? Uric the Oddball?" he replied, hoarsely.

"Oh, ha ha. Your sense of humour was unaffected I see." she replied, with a definite grin. "But I'm glad, I suppose."

"You suppose? Why, would you prefer me to be a grumpy old git? I can go and ask Dolohov to do it again if you like."

"Don't say that." Scarlet replied irritably, and frowned.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Barty replied earnestly, surprised by her reaction.

"It's alright. It's me, I've been up all night. I just need to sleep, and now that you've decided to join us, I can…" she yawned pointedly.

"Hmm. Well, you could be more pleased I'm not dead or paralysed or something." Barty replied huffily, only half kidding.

Scarlet looked down at him nervously, clearly anxious that she had upset him, "Oh, Barty I am! I'm sorry. I've just been so worried…"

Barty sat up a little, feeling a little foolish at his outburst and cut her off before she could continue, "I was only joking. Oh, come here."

Scarlet's eyes were looking dangerously watery as he embraced her, and Barty felt his insides squirm with guilt. He was not used to seeing Scarlet cry, she had always seemed so happy. Despite this he could not ignore the fact that he very much enjoyed being this close to her, but he did not dare hold her very tightly for fear of doing himself more damage.

"I thought you were going to die and leave me with _him_." Scarlet murmured into his shoulder in a half laugh. Her breath tickled his neck as she spoke, but it was more comforting than irritating, though he suddenly became very aware of his bare torso. He was considering this when he realised she would be expecting a reply, "Oh, yeah… Has Redric been getting on your nerves?"

Scarlet looked around at him, "Well, he's been a saint really. We usually get on really well, but in present circumstances… Let's just say we have differing opinions on certain matters." She raised an eyebrow significantly, and Barty gathered they had been arguing about him. Barty didn't know whether to be flattered or irritated. He fidgeted slightly and loosened his hold as Scarlet moved back slightly. Barty realised how very near her face was to his, so close he could almost count her eyelashes.

"I'm a big boy now, Scarlet, I can look after myself." Barty said, trying his best not to sound annoyed.

"Is that why I've been sat up all night looking after you? I don't think. Face it Barty, you need me." she replied, impishly.

"I might do. A bit." Barty conceded with a wolfish grin. After a seconds pause he leaned forward and taking hold of her face with one, still rather unsteady hand, kissed her clumsily. It was very short-lived as Scarlet pulled away after only a few seconds. Barty swallowed, looking at her wide-eyed, hoping he hadn't crossed the line. She did not seem to mind however, on the contrary she smiled, before running a hand through his hair affectionately, "You should get some sleep, you look like death warmed up."

"But I'm starving" Barty said sulkily, suddenly realising how hungry he was. Nevertheless he was secretly elated.

Scarlet reached into her pocket as she stood up from the edge of the bed where she had been sitting. Taking out a chocolate frog, she threw it towards him, "Redric should be back soon, ask him to make you something, I'm exhausted."

And at that, she curled up cat-like in the armchair beside his bed and pulling a blanket (which had previously been lying unceremoniously on the floor, as though cast aside in a hurry) over herself, closed her eyes.

"Where is he anyway?" Barty asked, bewildered.

"Gone to… see… Dad…. To warn him." she yawned.

"Why?"

But Scarlet did not reply, she was already fast asleep, her face obscured by her blonde hair. With a slight sigh of discomfort, Barty lay back down, sure that he would not find it so easy as Scarlet to catch forty winks.


	10. A Darker Shade of Red

The next morning Barty was woken by something heavy pressing against his chest, and he took a long, shallow breath. Looking down he saw a grey cat, which he immediately recognised as Scarlet's, staring up at him complacently, through it's amber, orb-like eyes. The cat was purring so loudly he was surprised he had been able to sleep at all. Barty sat upright slightly, and the cat slid down further and further down his chest until it landed in his lap, the embodiment of insolence. Barty sat there for several minutes, stroking the cat absentmindedly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to light. The night before he had not really noticed his surroundings, which were drastically different from either his or Scarlet's homes.

He was in what appeared to be a small hut or cabin, and Barty thought he could make out trees through the thin curtains which barely obscured the window. There was scarce space to move inside it, though Barty could just make out two doors, one of which led outside, and the other he hoped would blessedly lead to a toilet, thinking idly that he would not relish having to take a piss in the woods.

In addition to this Barty could make out a small wooden table with two chairs, a sink, an armchair, a rather undersized fireplace, a stove, a radio and a kettle. Crammed into the room there was also a small sofa, upon which a sleeping form lay, the silence punctuated by it's vague snores. Barty identified it immediately as Redric, due to the tuft of dark hair stuck out of the top of a rather moth eaten blanket. He had not seen him the day before, and Barty guessed he must have returned some time during the night. Barty had been lain on the only bed in the room, which he was surprised to see was a double, if a little on the smallish side. With a frown he noticed that Scarlet was no longer sat in the chair by his bed, in fact, she was nowhere to be seen.

His joints were a lot less stiff now he had had a proper night's rest, but he still felt frustratingly weak. He looked down at his bare chest, but could not see any mark of the wound which had inflicted so much pain. In fact, there wasn't a sign that any damage had been done at all, apart from the long scar which ran diagonally from just under his shoulder almost to his hip, but he had sustained that a long time before. He shivered, and where before he hadn't noticed the temperature, he felt a sudden chill. Looking to the end of his bed, he saw the clothes he had been wearing the night before. Or was it longer than that? He had no idea how much time had passed. Swinging his legs carefully round the edge of the bed, he levered himself up and tested his footing on the hard floor. A wave of nausea flooded through him, and he flopped immediately back onto the bed. Even this small action illustrated his helplessness, something which he found incredibly frustrating, and a little disquieting. Agitated, he tried again with greater success, with the help of the bed post managing to right himself. With further difficultly and a lot of fumbling, he managed to get dressed. Exhausted, he sat in the armchair that not so long ago, Scarlet had vacated. Just as he was again, wondering where she had got to, the door furthest from him clattered open, and a voice enquired, "How is my little invalid?"

Looking up he saw Scarlet unwind a long purple scarf from her neck, before bolting the heavy lock on the door behind her. The cat meowed imploringly at her feet.

"Alright" Barty greeted her, relieved that his voice had lost it's roughness, and sounded as close to normal as possible. "Where've you been?"

"Here and there" she replied, smiling as she unbuttoned her coat. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long" Barty said, frowning.

Scarlet looked in the direction of her brother and shook her head, "So much for an early start."

Barty rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Why? What time is it?"

Checking her watch she walked over and sat on the arm of his chair, "About half past nine."

"And that's not early?" he asked her, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

"Well, we were supposed to be sorting out where Redric and Dad are going to go." Scarlet answered, matter-of-factly. She leant back, her hair brushing against Barty's shoulder. "But seen as though none of this is really his fault, I thought he deserved a few extra hours sleep."

Barty winced, "Yeah… Sorry about all of this."

"Oh, no one's blaming you!" Scarlet said, quickly. "Well, okay, Redric does. And I suppose Dad does too. But I don't. It's my fault, I should have been more prepared."

He looked at her aghast, "Because of me, a couple of Death Eaters quite literally banged down your door, tortured your brother, and destroyed your house. Yet, you're okay with that?"

Barty was sure he saw a dark frown cross her face fleetingly, before she shrugged it off, absently, "We won't get anywhere by arguing about who's to blame. It's done now, we have to focus on what we do next."

"Yes, but…" Barty reached across, and placed a placating hand on her knee. She stared at him for a second.

There was a groan from the nearby couch, announcing a rather grumpy Redric had awoken, "I can't believe you went without me."

"You were listening I take it?" Scarlet asked, nonchalantly, turning away from Barty to look at her brother.

"Of course" Redric sat up, his long hair standing out about his face, like a lion's mane. A light bruise covered his right cheek and there was a somewhat painful looking cut across his right eyebrow, but apart from this, he seemed relatively unharmed.

Scarlet slid off the chair arm, brushing Barty's hand away as if it were never there. Thankfully, Redric failed to notice this preoccupied as he was with stretching languorously. He looked at Scarlet expectantly, "Well? What did Dad say?"

"Well. You're probably not going to like it…" Scarlet replied, arms folded, a reserved look on her face.

Redric grimaced, "What did he say?"

"Dad agrees with me. He thinks that you join him at Aunt Ava's."

"Wait a minute, what's all this about?" Barty interjected, confusedly.

"What? How will we be any safer there?" Redric asked, talking over him.

"It makes sense, a muggle household is the last place they'd expect you to go to, and I don't think anyone even knows about her. I mean, I'm not sure there are even any records about her being related to us." Scarlet answered, hurriedly.

"Still, it doesn't sound like the best of ideas, we'd just be putting her in harms way if we got caught." Redric responded, grudgingly. "Besides, you see her all the time, the Death Eaters probably know all about that!"

"It's only recently that found out I've been helping Barty, they won't have been compiling a case study on me, for Merlin's sake!" Scarlet retorted, exasperated.

Barty noticed the mention of his name only seemed to make Redric angrier, and he couldn't help but feel detached, as though he were encroaching on a private conversation. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Redric was determinedly ignoring his presence, refusing to even look at him. Barty supposed he deserved this treatment.

"I still think it's too much of a risk." Redric replied, adamantly.

"Do you really think I would deliberately put any of you in harms way? I'm trying to do what's best, and you're just making it all the more difficult" she glowered at him, hands on her hips.

"Well clearly your judgement has become somewhat skewed of late, Scarlet, because most of the decisions you've made recently haven't exactly been good ones, have they?" Redric replied, scathingly. Barty didn't doubt Redric was referring to him. Evidently, this hadn't escaped Scarlet's notice either.

"This isn't about what's best is it? This is about Barty. Again. We've already had this conversation, and I haven't changed my mind."

They were both stood, barely a few inches apart, glaring at each other. The family resemblance was startling, but Barty didn't think now was the right time to point this out.

"I just don't understand your reasoning over this! I know you feel indebted to him in some way, because you used to be friends or whatever. But is it worth putting us all in danger?"

Scarlet sighed, "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I didn't want you to get involved in this."

Redric scoffed, "You should have at least seen this coming."

"You're right, I should have, and I really am sorry" Scarlet shook her head. "Nevertheless, there's nothing we can do about that now, and I need you. I need you to look after Dad."

A look of understanding passed between them, and the hostility in Redric's attitude seemed to evaporate as the atmosphere in the room melted away. Barty felt like he had missed something, it was as though the entire argument had never happened.

"Alright." Redric replied at length, sounding slightly apologetic. "But I don't like it."

"I told you, you wouldn't" Scarlet grinned back cheekily, her relief palpable.

Barty felt if there was ever a time to remind them of his presence, now was probably the best.

"What exactly are we going to do?" he asked, addressing Scarlet.

She looked over at him contemplatively, "Well…"

Redric shifted uncomfortably, "It's probably best that I go. The quicker we get sorted out the better."

Scarlet nodded, "Oh, wait. I should probably check the wards around the cabin, while you're here, just in case I need help strengthening them."

"Scarlet, I'm sure they're fine. I mean you are an Auror…" Redric replied, doubtfully.

"It'll just take a minute" she answered, already halfway to the door. "Don't murder each other while I'm gone."

There was an awkward silence after she left, as what she had said seemed to resonate.

Barty couldn't help himself. He had to say something.

However, Redric beat him to it. He turned where he stood, his hands still bunched in to small fists, as though he were struggling to internalise his thoughts, and his anger.

"If I hear, anything… Anything at all has happened to Scarlet, don't doubt that I will do everything in my power to kill you" Redric hissed through his teeth, the bitter look in his eyes unfitting with the rest of his face.

"Look, if you've got something to say, by all means say it to me. None of this is your sister's fault" Barty answered affably as he stood, and met Redric's eyes. He quickly decided this had been a bad idea however, as he hadn't realised how tall he was compared to Redric. In the small cabin he seemed to loom over him, the overall effect being much more threatening a gesture than he had meant.

"I don't really understand what hold it is you have over her, in fact, I don't think I want to know; but she's decided to stay with you, so I hope you fucking appreciate it" he continued, seemingly gaining a better control over his emotions, this perhaps was spurred by the fact that the odds were well and truly against him if they were to get in a fight. In addition to his height advantage, and despite being lean, Barty could certainly pack a punch, something they both understood all too well.

Barty looked at him quizzically, "What do you mean, she's staying with me?"

Once more, Redric shifted awkwardly, "Look, I don't know all the details, but I'm sure you realise that thanks to you, we're all in trouble now. Me and Dad, well, we'll be alright, we aren't exactly their main objectives, if we keep our heads down they probably won't come looking for us." He paused, clearly thinking over his words carefully, "As for you and Scarlet… Well, I'm assuming you've more than pissed them off now. And she refused to abandon you, despite anything I've said. So you're in this together, for better or worse. I hope you're happy with yourself, because, like I said, if anything happens…"

Barty held up his hands appeasingly, "Yes, I heard you the first time. No need to reiterate that cliché. But, I'm curious. Don't I have a say in any of this?"

Redric shrugged, offhand, "It's nothing to do with me. Ask Scarlet, but bear in mind that I will be keeping in touch with her, and if…"

"Yes, I know." Barty said, growing weary of the subject. "Don't worry, I'll look after her."

Redric snorted, "Well, you've done a brilliant job so far. I'd say it was pretty much the other way around, but looks can be deceiving I suppose."

Barty sniffed, "Quite."

In truth he wasn't sure how he felt about this whole situation, neither was he sure what he had actually expected when he woke up that morning. He supposed that Scarlet's plan did indeed make sense, the Death Eaters would be after them, both of them, and it made sense that they stuck together… But he found the ease in which Scarlet had made this decision, particularly in his absence, a little unsettling. Although, perhaps he was wrong, after all he had not been awake at the time. Besides which, he could not help but feel somewhat comforted, it meant he got to spend more time with her. He told himself this was probably because she was the only person who could look at him without snarling, but he feared this was the not the case, and that it relied solely on something much deeper, much more profound. This would not do.

Shaking his head, he decided to focus on the more pressing issue of Scarlet's over-protective little brother.

"To say you wanted to rip my throat out a few minutes ago, we don't seem to be getting along too badly" he prompted, coolly, after the uncomfortable silence once again became almost unbearable.

"That's because I'm doing this for my sister. I think she needs you just as much as you need her, for survival's sake, I mean. If it weren't for that, you'd be on your back."

Redric said this smartly, and with complete conviction. Barty had to admire him, the kid had guts.

Barty raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't be so sure."

They frowned at each other for a few seconds.

"Besides we, were friends right? In days gone by…" Barty continued, hastily.

He said friends, more acquaintances really. Since their families had been friends, it had meant they had got to know each other quite well, but it was always Barty and Scarlet who were best friends. Redric had tagged along with them frequently, but since he was significantly younger than them (having began his attendance at Hogwarts just as they left), this didn't last forever.

"Yes, we were friends. More fool me, I suppose" Redric muttered, leaning against the table in what he obviously considered was a suave fashion. Barty however, thought he looked like an idiot.

The door clattered open as Scarlet entered the cabin, once more, rubbing her hands together for warmth, "To say it's July, it's freezing. It makes no sense…"

Her voice trailed off at she noticed the looks on both mean's faces; that of sheer grumpiness. A look which can only be attained by being stuck in a room with someone whom you intensely dislike, but are incapable of doing anything remotely horrid to for fear of hurting someone you like very much indeed.

"Maybe it's time for you to go, Red" Scarlet said, with an expression of something nearing amusement.

Redric nodded, embracing his sister, "I think you're probably right. Take care of yourself."

"Oh, wait a minute" Scarlet reached down and picked up the cat which was currently winding it's way around her legs. "I know it's a pain, but can you take Malkin with you?"

Redric blinked, taken aback, "But, he's yours…"

"If I can trust you to look after Dad, I think you can handle my cat." Scarlet nodded, with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. Barty thought she was a lot less happy about this than she was letting on. "It's not like he can come with me. Please, Red."

Redric nodded, "Oh, alright, if it means that much to you."

Somewhat grudgingly, he took the cat from her, and turned towards the door. Scarlet looked at Barty, and grinned a grin of utter relief. This was short lived, however.

Redric had paused halfway through the doorway, "Scarlet. Don't forget to get in contact with Joel, you should probably warn him."

All the blood in Barty's veins seemed to freeze, simultaneously.

Scarlet however, appeared to find this all very disinteresting in comparison to a knot of wood she had found in the door, which she stared at determinedly. Her cheeks however, flushed a darker shade of red.

"Besides. I think he misses you."

And, quite possibly knowing he had left a bombshell (or at least a hand grenade) in his wake, Redric left.

Scarlet closed the door behind him, taking an unnecessary amount of time to check that it was locked correctly.

Barty wasn't fooled by her stalling.

At last, she turned, leaning back against the door with a sigh. Scarlet looked over at Barty, and arms folded, he stared back at her.

"Scarlet… Just for interest's sake, who is Joel?"


End file.
